


Surviving You

by pantswarrior



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Blackmail, Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M, Mind Games, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2009-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phoenix's life falls into disarray after Zak's trial. Luckily, he's found someone in the aftermath who will help him get back on his feet, who will support him and never leave him... and that might not be such a good thing after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Kristoph arrived, Phoenix was sitting on the bathroom floor - shirtsleeves rolled up, disheveled, head in his hands. He heard Kristoph pause at the door, then enter, leaning down slightly to peer at him. "I apologize for entering without an invitation... ...Are you ill?"

Phoenix shook his head. "Just tired," he mumbled. "Just very, very tired." More than the physical. The physical tiredness was the least of it.

"Then what are you doing on the bathroom floor?" Kristoph inquired.

Phoenix gestured vaguely towards the toilet. "Well, I _was_ trying to fix the toilet... I've given up."

"Is that so...? What seems to be the problem?"

"Trucy was trying out a new magic trick," Phoenix explained. Usually, even her mishaps would make him smile, but not today. "It didn't go so well... She was trying to make a few of my ties disappear - she was trying to set a new record with silk scarves, but we couldn't afford any new ones, so she was using my ties. Not like I have much use for them working in retail..."

He paused, as Kristoph's hand alighted gently on his shoulder. He kind of wished Kristoph wasn't so open about his affection. It made things... confusing. "Do continue," Kristoph suggested.

"...Well, as it turned out, she couldn't get them all to fit in her hat as she planned," Phoenix sighed. "And since she was showing me this trick while I was shaving at the mirror there, she did what seemed like a convenient thing to do to make the trick work anyway, and..."

Kristoph got the picture. "Oh dear."

"You seem to think this is funny," Phoenix complained, looking up to see - yes, Kristoph looked as if he was trying not to laugh. Seeing that, Phoenix couldn't really help himself. "...Okay, so it is sort of funny," he admitted, starting to smile a little as well.

Kristoph allowed himself a chuckle. "I'm glad you agree - I'd be gravely concerned for your wellbeing if _you_ couldn't laugh at a bit of, shall we say, potty humor?"

Phoenix nodded, but the smile faded. "But basically... this means I'm out a couple of ties, and we can't flush the toilet."

"All part of raising a child," Kristoph noted, somewhat ominously. "Just wait until she reaches the teenage years..."

"Oh, dear lord," Phoenix muttered, covering his eyes in exasperation. "I don't even want to think about what you must have gone through with your brother."

"Klavier has always been a good boy," Kristoph clarified. "He's just a bit _unusual_. No doubt the same will be true of Trucy."

"Absolutely - she's a great kid," Phoenix agreed. "But she's _different_, and those years are tough when you're different..."

"Indeed..." Kristoph's hand stroked over Phoenix's head lightly. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion somewhere other than your bathroom? I appreciate how clean you've kept it, but it's a bit cramped."

"Oh... yeah." Phoenix glanced around - an office bathroom really wasn't the best place for entertaining guests. Or for use as the sole bathroom for two people, for that matter. He shoved the negative thoughts to the back of his mind and got to his feet, wincing at his sore back muscles. "What brings you by, anyway?" he asked, as they returned to the office proper. "Something I should know about?" Most of the time, when Kristoph stopped by, there was a little glimmer of hope that rose in his chest, the idea that maybe Kristoph had found out _something_ about the incident that had gotten him disbarred, that it could be reversed... Either he'd become jaded after so many false alarms, or his weekend really _had_ been terrible, because he wasn't feeling hopeful at all at the moment.

Kristoph shook his head as they settled on the couch. "Nothing in particular - I found myself with a lighter caseload than I'd expected for a Monday, and thought I'd stop by to see how you were doing."

"Heh... not so well, obviously," Phoenix admitted, running his hands through his hair. He could still kind of feel where Kristoph had touched it, and it was disconcerting. "As well as can be expected, I guess, but it's been one of those days."

"Already?" Kristoph glanced at his watch. "It's hardly noon."

"My day started early." Thinking about it, Phoenix could hardly suppress a yawn. "Trucy had a nightmare, woke up crying about her mommy... I stayed up and talked to her and held her until she fell asleep again."

"Ah..." Kristoph offered a sympathetic nod.

"That's probably why she was trying out that trick earlier - she wanted to make me feel better the way I made her feel better. She really is an amazing kid - you still haven't met her yet, have you?" Phoenix realized abruptly. "You should drop by on the weekend sometime, or in the afternoon, after she's out of school."

"Actually, I did meet her once, briefly," Kristoph replied. "At the courthouse, during the... er, the incident." No need to be more specific than that.

"Ah, right." Kristoph had been in attendance at his brother's first trial, of course.

"A charming little girl, but no doubt a handful. Particularly for a single parent."

The words had precisely the opposite effect that one of Kristoph's visits usually had on Phoenix - his heart felt like it dropped into his stomach. "That's, uh... not _exactly_ the case..." he reminded his friend.

Apparently, the fact that his protest was a little weaker today didn't escape Kristoph's notice. "...Don't tell me you _still_ haven't told him..."

"Uhm... he _knows_," Phoenix admitted glumly. "But it wasn't me who told him. Someone tipped him off... probably Gumshoe."

"Judging from your expression," Kristoph observed, "I take it that conversation didn't go well."

"I didn't think it would - that's why I didn't tell him."

Kristoph's eyes widened slightly behind the glasses. "He doesn't _believe_ you forged that evidence, does he?"

Phoenix shook his head. "No, but he's mad that he had to find out from someone else. He said he's faced inquiry committees before, and he could have helped if I'd just asked... He doesn't seem to understand that I just couldn't make myself explain to him. I couldn't say the words... so when he called..." Phoenix dropped his head into his hands again. "...I couldn't answer. I knew why he was calling, so I wouldn't pick up. And since I wouldn't pick up, he flew back to see me this weekend - in person, so I couldn't ignore him - and he got another big surprise, in the form of a little girl..."

"Oh, of course." Kristoph seemingly hadn't thought of that part of it. "If you hadn't discussed that trial and its outcome with him, of course he wouldn't know about the adoption. That's a rather big secret to keep from your partner."

"That's pretty much what he had to say about it."

Kristoph sighed, and rested a hand on Phoenix's back consolingly. "Is he still in town?"

Phoenix shook his head. "He flew back to Europe this morning. ...As far as I know." Phoenix willed Kristoph not to ask the obvious question.

Kristoph opted for the secondmost obvious. "So you didn't make up before he left."

"We'll sort through this eventually," Phoenix replied, stubborn. He wished he believed it. He also wished he could ignore the way Kristoph's thumb was rubbing in little circles on his back through his thin shirt, but he couldn't.

"If you're both committed, and willing to work at it, I'm sure you will," Kristoph said mildly.

Which would be the problem. There was another factor that Phoenix hadn't discussed with Miles, which was... well, it mostly boiled down to the fact that he was having trouble ignoring Kristoph's light, fond touches, which were growing more and more frequent. He supposed he really did have to say something. "...Kristoph... I'm _not_ single."

"Yes, and...?"

Could he really not see the problem there? "And the way you're touching me is sort of..."

"No more than I would do for any friend," Kristoph assured him, and he didn't stop. "I would do rather more for a friend, in fact, if he allowed it. This tension in your upper back, for example," Kristoph said, and slid closer along the couch to press both thumbs between Phoenix's shoulders, making him wince slightly. "I could relieve it. I've been told that I have good hands."

He did. Phoenix had to admit it. Kristoph's hands were fine and smooth and soft (and if he had that oddly feminine habit of painting his nails, at least he used clear polish, so he wasn't terribly obvious about it). Kristoph's hands were the hands of a scholar, rather than a worker. They were a lot like Miles's hands... except for the part where Kristoph's hands touched him frequently and affectionately - and even when not on another continent, Miles's usually didn't. "You do," Phoenix acknowledged. "But you have to understand - I'm not really used to being touched a lot."

"Do you dislike it?"

"Uhm, no." To be honest, he craved it. It drove him _mad_, the way Miles kept their interactions so carefully chaste in public, and even in private rarely offered gestures of physical affection casually, for no reason other than to touch. Kristoph was more like Phoenix himself - willing to stroke and pet and take a hand in his own to squeeze it when a friend needed encouragement. "I'm just... I'm not _used_ to it, that's all."

Kristoph made a quiet, reproving sound. "Then Mr. Edgeworth has been neglecting his duties."

"He has ... some issues," Phoenix retorted quickly. Boy, did Miles have issues. "It's all right, I understand."

"Don't get me wrong," Kristoph said. "I can't say anything about the man you've chosen - it's your choice to make. But if his issues with touching keep you from accepting a friend's offer of relief from your aches and pains..." Kristoph's thumbs pressed harder between Phoenix's shoulderblades, making those small circles again, kneading sore muscles.

"Kristoph..."

He paused, as Phoenix turned his head to look at him. "Hmm?"

"I know perfectly well that your feelings towards me are more than friendly."

Kristoph removed his hands with a shrug and a little smile. "What can I say? I've never been very good at keeping secrets. But I ask you," he added more seriously, "have I ever overstepped my boundaries?"

"...Well, no..." Phoenix admitted. Thinking about it logically, Kristoph had never touched him in a way that someone shouldn't touch a friend... in a way that _he himself_ would have felt awkward about touching a friend.

"And do you trust me?"

"Of course I do." The reply came quickly. "You stood up for me when no one else did, you've been supporting me all along." And there was... some sort of answer there, Phoenix thought, but he didn't think he should examine it too closely, especially not when he was upset about Miles.

"Then lie down, will you?" Kristoph suggested, flexing his fingers. "On your stomach. Let me work a few of these knots out." Phoenix hesitated, and Kristoph gave Phoenix a smile that was just barely short of being sly. "I promise - you'll enjoy it at least as much as I."

Still dubious, Phoenix considered. It wasn't like he'd never let Maya rub his back, or vice versa. If that was all Kristoph was intending to do, then what was the problem? Okay, so he knew what the problem was. He just refused to admit it, which meant there was no problem, which meant...

"Excellent," Kristoph murmured, removing his own jacket and moving to kneel as Phoenix settled himself, face down, on the couch. "This may hurt a bit at first, but if you don't fight it, it will start to feel very good."

Refusing to admit it. Yes. Absolutely refusing. But that phrasing, coming while he was laid out face down, wasn't helping Phoenix not _acknowledge_ it. He could feel his pulse quicken - and then he groaned aloud as Kristoph's thumbs pressed into the small of his back, so hard he thought his spine might crack. And then his hands were moving...

Kristoph was right - at first it was painful, but as he continued working, as his taut muscles gradually relaxed under the brute force and determination of Kristoph's hands, the pain melted away into a comfortable ache. Phoenix found himself moaning in relief as the tension he hadn't even been aware of slowly seeped away under Kristoph's fingers. But then, also, there was a different kind of tension creeping in that had nothing to do with the long days he spent working at what he _hoped_ was not going to be his new career, and the nights spent cradling Trucy in his arms until she slept peacefully, and the time he'd spent just that morning working on the toilet.

"Perhaps," Kristoph said lightly, "I should have had you take off your shirt."

"I'm fine," Phoenix said quickly, half-muffled by his arms. Fine, except for the part where being touched so thoroughly and purposefully left his brain a pile of mush even more than his muscles. How else could he explain why... Well, no. That was a disservice to both himself and Kristoph.

The truth was... he'd always been a little attracted to Kristoph, since Kristoph had pulled him aside after the ruling to offer his support. The man was kind and gentle and attentive and _believed in him_. And now Phoenix knew he had _amazing_ hands, too.

Phoenix was honestly considering saying something about this, in spite of his determination to ignore it, when the hands abruptly withdrew. "How does that feel?" Kristoph asked, sitting back on his heels.

Phoenix's eyes met his, but whatever he had been thinking about saying to Kristoph came out as "Uuuhhhhhnnnn."

Kristoph smiled. "It looks like my work here is done, then."

It didn't have to be, Phoenix thought as Kristoph stood, reaching for his jacket. This wasn't good. He was probably going to have to talk to Miles...

...Then again, since the man had left that morning without a word of farewell, maybe not. Phoenix didn't even know exactly where in Europe he'd been lately.

And on the other hand, he knew exactly where Kristoph was - right there in his office, as Kristoph bent down slightly to look Phoenix in the eye. "I haven't accidentally killed you, have I?"

"Heh. No, but you'll forgive me if I don't want to move. ...Especially," Phoenix added, "when I'm likely to undo everything you just did whenever I _do_ get up." He was _not_ looking forward to going back to working on the toilet.

"Ah, yes. I thought there was something more I should do before I left," Kristoph murmured, pulling the phone book out of the row of reference materials on Phoenix's desk. "Let's see..."

Phoenix did manage to roll onto his side, so he could see as Kristoph reached for the phone on the desk that he had the yellow pages open to the Ps. "...Uh, actually, I can't really afford a-"

"I'll take care of it," Kristoph said dismissively as he dialed. "After all, I've done the 'raising a young child on my own' bit - and now that that young child is self-sufficient, I have something of a surplus when it comes to income."

Somewhat dazed, Phoenix sat up. "...Wow. Kristoph... I don't know wh-"

Kristoph made a quick hushing motion - the phone had been answered, and he swiftly arranged for the visit, offering his card number to be charged when the service was completed. After thanking the receptionist, he hung up. "Well, they should have a plumber here in an hour. I fear I'll not be present for the proceedings, however," he stated, starting towards the door. "I do have an appointment this afternoon. If you run into any trouble, however..."

"Kristoph..."

Kristoph paused, looking mildly surprised, as this time it was Phoenix whose hand caught his, and held it for a moment. Perhaps a moment too long. "...Thanks," Phoenix murmured honestly. "For everything."

Kristoph simply smiled. "It's no trouble at all," he assured Phoenix. "Call me if you need anything."

And as he left, Phoenix tried hard not to think about what it was that he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Phoenix didn't take Kristoph up on the offer to call for quite some time. He hardly needed to, when the man kept showing up at his office, and occasionally at the supermarket he was working in. (Just to have a paycheck, he kept telling himself, just until he found a real job - but when his areas of study in college were acting and law, and law was no longer an option... well, unless he was lucky enough to be "discovered" while stocking watermelons in the produce department, his academic background wasn't going to lead to any exciting new careers anytime soon.) Kristoph was around, speaking with him, offering advice, _touching_ him; Phoenix didn't have to go to the trouble of actually calling him.

This didn't make things any easier when he finally got up the nerve to call someone else, in the afternoon, when the time zone difference made it an appropriate hour to call on a Friday. After that call was made, though...

"Mr. Wright - what a pleasant surprise," Kristoph greeted him upon answering, and Phoenix could hear the smile in his voice, the soft squeak of an office chair as he sat down. "I don't believe you've ever called me at the office. ...You're not in need of a defense attorney, are you?" he teased.

...Phoenix said nothing. He didn't know where to start.

After a brief pause, he heard the chair squeak again. "...Phoenix?" Kristoph inquired, more gently, and there was a click - he must have gotten up to close the door to his office. "Is something the matter?" Phoenix wanted to reply, but he couldn't make the words come out. "Phoenix?" Kristoph repeated, more firmly.

"I... uh..." Phoenix swallowed hard. "Are you busy?"

His misery must have been audible. "What is it, Phoenix?"

It took some time before he could make himself say it. "I just got off the phone with Miles."

"Oh? Is there some sort of problem?"

"...I don't think... uhm... well, we..." Phoenix couldn't say it. He was sure he'd start crying if he did.

Kristoph seemed to understand what he was trying to say anyway. "...Ahhh." Not that he seemed to know what to say in response.

Phoenix blinked back the tears at the corners of his eyes. "I could really use some company," he admitted.

"I imagine so." Kristoph sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Phoenix - being the last day of the work week, there are things that require my attention at the office this afternoon. Won't Trucy be home soon?"

"Yeah, but... I can't lay this on her. She's just a kid..."

"True enough," Kristoph acknowledged. "Hmm... yes, I suppose you could use some time away from the responsibility of being a parent at a time like this. Time with just your friends... Here's a thought - do you have someone who could watch her for the night?"

"I've got a couple people who might, yeah..."

"How about this, then - I have no plans for the weekend, aside from a quiet, peaceful evening at home tonight, and I would not be averse to sharing it with a friend."

"...At your place?"

"Yes."

Phoenix couldn't decide what he thought of that idea. ...No, he did know what he thought of it - that it was a very bad idea. A very bad idea that sounded very good.

"What do you think, Phoenix? Shall I give you directions?"

"I could definitely use a little direction," Phoenix mumbled to himself.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing... Let me make a couple of phone calls first?"

"The responsible thing to do, no doubt," Kristoph agreed. "I look forward to hearing back from you."

"Yeah... I'll call back in a bit." Phoenix paused. "...Sorry to interrupt your work."

"It's no trouble - you've not kept me on the line for very long at all," Kristoph assured him. "And I have paperwork I can review while I'm waiting for your answer."

"Okay... thanks." Although it kind of made Phoenix feel worse - he didn't even have work he could lose himself in to take his mind off things. Not that he'd ever had as much work as Kristoph even when he _had_ been a lawyer.

The responsible grown-up parental figure thing to do, Phoenix thought, would be to call one of his usual babysitters, people in the area who could come by and stay with Trucy, or whose homes were close enough that he could walk her over and carry her home if he came back a little late. Phoenix considered it, and the thoughts that had led up to his calling Kristoph, and decided to do something entirely immature and impetuous instead.

Trucy liked the train - there was so much to look at on the way out of the city, all going by so fast, and then the view as the tracks wound their way up into the mountains was spectacular. Maya and Pearl greeted them with cheerful hugs, and Pearl was overjoyed to have her magical friend back for a couple of days. Maya agreed with her - as long as no sacred artifacts 'disappeared forever' this time - but wondered why Phoenix was so quiet. The ride back was less enjoyable, with none of Trucy's infectious excitement to distract Phoenix from the sick feeling in his chest that told him he'd done something horribly wrong.

The feeling that he was about to make it much, much worse clutched his heart like a fist when he spotted Kristoph waiting for him at the station, and he told himself that he could always change his mind. That nothing might happen.

But none of that was as strong as the gratitude he felt when, unlike Miles, Kristoph was willing to embrace him right there, in the middle of the crowded platform, before ushering him off to the car.

Kristoph drove a large black sedan, perfectly respectable. The drive was occupied by meaningless trivialities - how was the trip, is Maya doing well, does Trucy cope well with her friends being able to channel the dead - and Phoenix was relieved that he wouldn't have to jump into an explanation right away, though his anxiety grew as they passed out of the city proper and into an upper-class suburban neighborhood. Kristoph pointed out the homes of moderately popular actors and musicians, and then pulled into the large circular driveway of a manor that looked much the same.

The Gavin manor was all dark polished wood and heavy draperies in deep colors, and to Phoenix it looked like an expensive old hotel, if not a movie set. Kristoph said that it was only a modest dwelling compared to some he'd visited - the von Karma mansion in Germany, for example. Taking in the look on Phoenix's face, he abruptly averted his eyes, apologizing and excusing himself to the kitchen. While he put dinner on, Phoenix was welcome to have a look around.

..._Put dinner on._ When he'd eaten at Miles's apartment, despite the fact that Miles had a perfectly functional kitchen, usually well-stocked, they had almost always ordered take-out, aside from the few occasions that Phoenix had offered to make something.

When Kristoph returned with a smile and an assurance that it was no trouble at all - such a large home seemed very empty since his brother had found his own place to stay when he was in town, and it was a pleasure to cook for someone again - Phoenix was just sitting on a finely upholstered sofa, staring into a brick fireplace that wasn't lit.

Kristoph paused, peering at Phoenix with apparent concern. "Dinner won't take long," he said, "but perhaps you'd like to talk about what brought you here tonight?"

Phoenix looked up to him listlessly. Despite thinking about it all day, since he'd made that phone call, he still didn't know what he could say about it. Especially without breaking down.

Perhaps Kristoph understood, because he sat down at the far end of the sofa, leaning forward with his hands folded, elbows on his knees. "I would never pry, you understand. If company is all you require of me, that would be fine. But if you did need to speak of it..."

_"Honestly, Miles... I've been thinking, and, well... it's... _frustrating_ that I hardly ever get to see you. You're always off in Europe, and even when something big happens-"_

"You know I would have dropped everything and returned immediately, had you deigned to inform me."

"That's just it - you couldn't_ have returned immediately. You have to arrange the flights, and actually _make_ the flights, and that's a whole day gone."_

"It wouldn't have made much difference."

"What if it were an emergency, where a day would make all the difference in the world? Or what if it wasn't, and I just wanted you here? ...That's what it's like every day for me while you're gone, Miles. I don't know if I can deal with living this way."

"...Wright. I have a job."

"...And I don't. ...I'm scared."

Phoenix sighed heavily. "I tried to just be honest with him," he began, "and explain that I'm not happy with the way things are between us. But he has obligations, and he can't just jet across the globe every time I miss him." His voice grew tight. "Especially since that's... every day, basically."

_"...I'm tired of living with half my heart on the other side of the world."_

There was a very long pause. "What are you saying, Phoenix?"

Kristoph nodded encouragingly, and reached out to touch his shoulder as Phoenix rested his head in his hands, his voice shaky. "I thought maybe when he saw I was serious... I mean, we've never discussed our relationship in depth, I thought maybe he just didn't know how I felt. And maybe if he did, he'd try to make some kind of effort... I wanted to give him a chance to show that he felt the same way..."

_"There's someone else, isn't there?"_

Phoenix's eyes widened. "...What? What gives you that idea?"

"You're not trying with all your might to save this relationship - you're not clinging for dear life. That's wholly uncharacteristic of you. ...The only conclusion I can draw is that you've already decided that it's over, and that that's all right with you."

Remembering the tired, resigned undertones to Miles's voice - more tired than would have made sense for whatever time zone he was in over there - Phoenix entirely lost his composure and doubled over, unable to hold back the sobs he'd been fighting back all day, as hard as he tried. Miles was right, and this was _his_ fault - it wasn't about Miles being so far away, even though that didn't help. It was him, he'd messed it all up, after he'd been the one to initiate things and push Miles into a relationship, and what good had it done either of them if this was how it ended? And as much as he must have hurt Miles, he was hurting too, because he'd believed for the last three years that he was in love with Miles Edgeworth, and always would be. If he wasn't a lawyer, and he wasn't in love with Miles Edgeworth - who _was_ he?

Maybe that was why he was crying so hard, harder than he had even when Dahlia had admitted to trying to kill him, like he hadn't cried since he was a child, breathless and nearly silent except for that high, helpless keening from the back of his throat. The last six years of his life had been all for nothing, and he _wasn't_ a child anymore - he was much too old to just start over. He couldn't articulate any of this to the man who was now beside him, holding him as he curled into himself on the edge of the sofa. Nor could he articulate his gratitude for Kristoph simply _being_ there and letting him cry and _not leaving_, aside from leaning into his embrace.

After what seemed like an eternity, as his sobs had slowed, as he was able to breathe again, he felt Kristoph's hand rub his back lightly. "Phoenix...? I don't want dinner to burn, so I'm going to go to the kitchen for a moment. I'll be right back." Phoenix nodded, as much as he could manage with his head between his knees, and felt a little pat on the shoulder as Kristoph's warmth and weight disappeared.

He'd managed to pull himself together a bit by the time Kristoph returned, and was sitting up. And hiccuping embarrassingly, but it probably wasn't as embarrassing as the way he'd been crying. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes," Kristoph reported, saying nothing of how terrible Phoenix knew he must look, and handing him a wineglass. "Why don't we start with a little drink?"

Phoenix was dubious - he had exactly _zero_ alcohol tolerance, and he never had. But then again, he wouldn't have come to Kristoph's place to begin with if he was afraid of succumbing to temptation. Actually... he welcomed it. If a drink or two could make him forget the reasons he kept thinking about backing out - if it could make him forget _Miles_ \- he would be glad.

As Kristoph uncorked the bottle he'd been carrying in the other hand, Phoenix raised the glass Kristoph had offered him, and noticed movement. "...There's something in this glass already."

"I recalled that when we first met, after the bar association's ruling, when I offered to buy you a drink," Kristoph said simply, not looking up from his pouring of the wine, "that you mentioned having no head for alcohol. I thought it would be best for yours to be watered down a bit."

"Oh..." Phoenix had forgotten about that entirely - he'd been too miserable at the time to be thinking about anything but his empty lapel, and what Miles was going to say when he found out... The reminder nearly set him off again, and when Kristoph had filled his glass, he took a quick gulp against the tightness in his throat. "Th-thank you."

Kristoph took a long drink from his own glass, setting the bottle on the floor by the end of the sofa. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," Phoenix admitted, staring into his glass because it would be rude to stare at Kristoph. "I'm sorry I lost it like that."

"To be honest," Kristoph observed, "I'm surprised you made it this long without 'losing it'. But perhaps we should talk about something else as we approach the meal - something more pleasant." He took another sip of his wine and considered. "Has Trucy managed to work the bugs out of that trick you mentioned her having trouble with the other day - interlocking rings, was it?"

The thought of Trucy stubbornly going at her magic tricks, the joy she radiated when she got it right, was enough to make Phoenix smile, if only a little at first, and the evening became more tolerable as he told Kristoph all about her latest antics. Kristoph still hadn't managed to come by when she was around, he observed, but Kristoph seemed unconcerned - no doubt they'd bump into each other sometime.

Despite his somewhat improved mood, and Kristoph's continuing efforts to keep the mood upbeat during dinner, not to mention the first home-cooked meal he'd had since the chilly nights he'd spent at Hazakura Temple, Phoenix had no appetite, and picked at his food. "Oh, it's fine, it tastes good," he assured Kristoph when questioned. "I'm just..."

Kristoph nodded. "I understand. Well, we'll have plenty of leftovers tomorrow, then," he suggested with a smile.

That sounded to Phoenix like Kristoph was intending for him to spend the night. ...Which was kind of what Phoenix had been thinking about anyhow, and a little thrill of pleasure ran up his spine. That was a rather nice change from anything else he'd been feeling lately, and he held onto it, savoring it.

The wine, watered-down though it may have been, helped. By the time the table had been cleared (Phoenix insisted on helping, Kristoph insisted he was a guest, and in the end Phoenix gave in, provided that Kristoph wasn't going to do the dishes himself right at that moment), Phoenix was feeling pleasantly buzzed and rather sleepy. "You seem tired," Kristoph observed, having spotted him stifling a yawn and a stretch as he leaned back against the arm of the sofa, both of them having retired to the sitting room once more.

Phoenix shook his head, which served also to clear it. A little, and only briefly. "I'm all right."

"It _has_ been an eventful day for you," Kristoph pointed out. "And a delightful evening for me, but I would understand if you wished to take your leave, to turn in early."

Phoenix drew in a deep breath; this was the moment, he had to make his decision. In his heart, he knew he'd made it the moment he'd dialed Kristoph's number that afternoon. "...If you don't mind," he said, meeting Kristoph's eyes, "I'd... really rather... not go home."

Kristoph returned his gaze calmly. "I wouldn't mind a bit if you stayed," Kristoph replied with a slight nod, setting his wineglass down. "But Phoenix-"

Setting his glass down was as good as permission, as far as Phoenix could tell, through the comfortable fuzziness of the wine and exhaustion, and so he moved closer, leaning in to kiss Kristoph on the mouth.

He could feel Kristoph's lips quirk in a bemused little smile, taste the pasta and vegetables that Phoenix himself had been unable to swallow. He hadn't kissed anyone but Miles in years, and Kristoph's lips were different - not the least because they responded both easily and gently, and Phoenix wasn't used to that so he kissed harder.

Kristoph made a muffled, uncertain sound, and caught Phoenix's chin in his hand, parting them. "Phoenix, you're not in your right mind," he murmured.

Phoenix was unable to do anything but stare at Kristoph. "...Does it matter? I've wanted this," he admitted. "You've wanted this too. I didn't before, because..." He wasn't going to explain. Kristoph knew. He began to scoot closer, almost into Kristoph's lap, as Kristoph's eyes grew wide.

They were interrupted by a light tinkling sound, and Kristoph jerked away suddenly, glancing down beside the sofa, at the broken wineglass and the small pool of red wine by Phoenix's foot. "Ah - that was a bad place to put that, wasn't it?" he murmured.

"Ugh, sorry," Phoenix muttered, quite annoyed with himself for interrupting the moment. Not to mention embarrassed at his clumsiness all of a sudden. At least the floor was hardwood, not carpeted. "I'll get that-"

"You're a little bit out of it right now - why don't I get a-" Kristoph began as Phoenix leaned down, and almost immediately drew his hand back, wincing. Kristoph winced in sympathy. "Stay put," he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, "and keep this on your finger. I'll be back with a broom." Phoenix nodded, grimacing as the blood from his finger almost immediately soaked right through the fine fabric.

He was shaking, he realized suddenly. Shaking and scared and embarrassed... he hadn't felt so clueless and awkward since he was in college. Since before he'd decided to devote himself to the task of saving Miles - which he supposed made sense. It probably didn't help that Kristoph was so much like Dahlia, all kind and gentle and selfless... Except that Dahlia _wasn't_ any of those things, as it turned out. ...Except that the person he'd thought was Dahlia was actually Iris, who _was_ kind and gentle and selfless... Phoenix rubbed at his eyes with his unmarked hand - the wine was causing him to have a lot of trouble thinking straight.

A few moments later, Kristoph returned with a towel and a small broom and dustpan, and a bandage for the cut on his finger. Phoenix was shaking too badly to put it on himself, and seeing this, Kristoph wrapped it around his finger for him, which didn't help Phoenix feel any less humiliated, though Kristoph didn't say a word about it as he began sweeping up the broken glass.

Instead, back to what they'd been discussing. "This _isn't_ what I wanted, Phoenix," Kristoph explained, sliding the last of the glass out of harm's way and kneeling to run the towel over the floorboards. "Yes, I may have wanted _you_," he added, looking up to meet Phoenix's eyes, "but not at the expense of your relationship with Miles Edgeworth. How could I be happy for myself, knowing that you were unhappy? I never wanted _this_ to happen."

"I think it was inevitable," Phoenix mumbled. He felt dizzy - he couldn't even manage to feel miserable anymore. "I should have never started this in the first place..."

"They say hindsight is-" And then Kristoph couldn't finish, because Phoenix was kissing him again, and Phoenix felt himself growing weaker as Kristoph wrapped his arms around him, kissing back with amazing intensity. Somehow, Kristoph managed to get him to his feet, and though he wasn't entirely sure where they were, there was something soft beneath him as Kristoph laid him down on his back, and then Kristoph's lips were on his, and Kristoph's hands were touching his face, his throat, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging the tails free of his pants, unbuckling his belt...

When Phoenix realized he'd just moaned the wrong name, Kristoph paused for only a moment before kissing him again, for which Phoenix was all the more grateful.


	3. Chapter 3

Phoenix had no idea where he was when he woke up on a bed he'd never seen before, in a room he'd never seen before, in what looked like full daylight from the little brightly lit strip of ceiling above the heavy curtains on the far side of the room. The entire wall off to his right was covered with bookshelves crammed full of books, and he sleepily wondered if he'd dozed off in Miles's office. A moment later he thought to ask himself why Miles would have a bed in his office, given how he'd initially scoffed at Phoenix sleeping in his. A few moments later, he remembered why he wasn't likely to be dozing off in Miles's office, or doing anything in Miles's office, or anyplace that belonged to Miles at all, and suddenly the prospect of facing a new day seemed depressing rather than intriguing. At least he had a better idea now where he was, even if he didn't recognize the room.

He put a hand to his head gingerly - he seemed to ache everywhere. Except for his finger, which throbbed. He only dimly remembered why, when he saw the bandage on it, because it made a whole lot of memories come rushing back all at once, and having cut himself while trying to pick up broken glass was the least interesting, compelling, or confusing thing that he remembered.

Flat on his back, he tried drawing his legs up experimentally. ...Okay, he didn't ache _everywhere_, so he could probably rule out one particular thing as having happened. That left an awful lot of things which might or might not... but evidence was pointing to not, as he realized that although his shirt was off, his pants were on, and he didn't seem to need a shower any more than he might have needed one on any other morning for the last week.

Phoenix thought he might just have been more disappointed than relieved.

He lay there for awhile, not feeling at all motivated to get out of bed, until he heard a door open somewhere off to his left, around a corner. He turned his head to look just as Kristoph appeared, and their eyes met. Kristoph looked almost startled briefly, then smiled. "Good morning, Phoenix. How do you feel?"

Phoenix considered this for a moment. "Mostly, I feel confused. I suppose I can assume that I was right, and this is your room."

"It is," Kristoph confirmed, coming in and sitting down on the bed beside him. He was wrapped up in a fluffy blue bathrobe, and had a mug of... something that smelled herbal. "Is that so confusing?"

"Well, no - that's not the confusing part." Phoenix blinked at the ceiling, then looked back to Kristoph. "Uhm, Kristoph?"

"Yes?"

He could have sworn he remembered Kristoph's hands on him, taking his clothes off, and lots of kissing... "Last night, did we...?"

"Last night we had dinner," Kristoph began simply. "There was wine to go with it, and - you honestly do have _no_ head for wine, do you? You passed out after a single glass, so I brought you to my room and made you comfortable, then retired to one of the guest rooms."

"Seriously?" Phoenix frowned. "I've always been a lightweight, but I've never passed out after _one drink_ before."

"Your emotional state may have contributed to it," Kristoph suggested, "as well as your lack of actual dinner. You were drinking on an empty stomach."

Phoenix was still puzzled. And kind of horrified. "Even so..."

"And then there was the blood loss. You cut your finger shortly before you collapsed."

"Yeah... I remember that part." Phoenix eyed the bandage on his finger, where there was a large, dark spot visible through the beige-tinted tape. "I didn't think I lost that much blood though."

"I don't believe you did - it was most likely the combination of several factors." Kristoph reached out, touching Phoenix's cheek fondly. "There's no need to be embarrassed. No one was here to see you but myself, after all. And it was better for it to happen with me here to take care of you than for it to have happened while you were alone."

"Mm-hmm..." Phoenix nodded vaguely, but he was still embarrassed. And disappointed. "...We really didn't do anything at all?"

Kristoph didn't quite hide his smirk behind the hand he raised to nudge his glasses a little further up. "We did kiss a bit."

Phoenix remembered that much. "...And that's all?"

"Phoenix, Phoenix..." Kristoph teased him. "You were at most semi-conscious. Even if you _were_ draped over me and groping me in a nearly obscene fashion, you were in a helpless state. I'm hardly the sort of person who could take advantage of someone so vulnerable."

Phoenix decided to be blunt. "I came here last night sort of hoping that you would."

He looked up to Kristoph again, and when their eyes met, _something_ sparked. Only for a moment, though, and then Kristoph adjusted his glasses again, clearing his throat. "I admit that it was a struggle not to, when you were in my arms, so... willing. That would be why I left you here, and spent the night in a guest room."

The silence that followed would have been the time, Phoenix thought, to pull Kristoph down to the bed with him. But this morning, he was tired and achy; his feelings were dried up with his tears. He just wasn't in the mood. "...You're a good man, Kristoph," he murmured. "Better than I deserved."

"Nonsense. Anyhow," Kristoph said, changing the subject. "What do you think about breakfast?"

"That... sounds good." Phoenix was definitely hungry, now that some of his tension and depression had dissipated. "Uhm... I could make something, since you did the honors last night."

"Oh, I'm fine," Kristoph assured him. "I eat light in the mornings, so I already had a bite myself. I wasn't sure what you might like, however, so I thought I'd ask before offering."

"These days, I usually don't _have_ breakfast," Phoenix admitted, finally deciding that the moment was far enough past that he might as well sit up. "Anything's fine."

Kristoph's kitchen was, Phoenix discovered, also rather well-stocked, and somewhat larger than Miles's had been, seeing as his home was practically a mansion, rather than an apartment. Kristoph suggested an omelet, if he was feeling up to something so substantial, and Phoenix was intrigued enough that he decided to stop protesting Kristoph's hospitality for the time being and enjoy it, sitting beside Kristoph in the kitchen while he worked. He was glad he'd conceded, because it was delicious. He wished he'd been able to eat more of his dinner the night before, since from all indications, Kristoph could cook.

But then there was the question of what they were doing next. It was a Saturday morning - well, afternoon, thanks to Phoenix having slept so late - and a particularly pleasant one. If Phoenix's head was well enough, Kristoph suggested, they might get out and enjoy the sunlight and fresh air.

There was a park near the manor, with trees and winding pathways of cobblestone and a stream with ducks, fat and friendly from neighborhood residents feeding them. The sound of laughter rang out from a patch of playground equipment, where children climbed and swung and spun. Phoenix watched them, a little wistfully, as he and Kristoph strolled past. "I bet Trucy would love this place. I mean, that great big jungle gym there? She'd be on top of that in a heartbeat. ...And I'd be standing at the bottom hyperventilating just watching her, because I'm not so good with heights. Trucy, though... I don't think she's afraid of anything."

"Well... perhaps we should bring her here sometime," Kristoph murmured, reaching out to take Phoenix's hand. "If you're intending to stop by and see me again."

Phoenix looked down at their hands in mild surprise, but gladly closed his fingers around Kristoph's. "Yeah, you could say that." Memories he'd nearly forgotten about kept him quiet.

When they were further along the path, in a shady, more isolated area, Kristoph broke their pleasant silence to ask "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, really."

Kristoph was too perceptive to fall for that. "...Something about him again?"

Phoenix smiled, but it was somewhat bitter. "There was a time I tried to take Miles out for a nice walk in the park on a sunny day. It took some convincing before he could settle down and enjoy it."

Kristoph turned to squint at him in disbelief. "What sort of man can't enjoy a walk in the park on a sunny day?"

"He _did_ decide it was all right eventually," Phoenix corrected him. "But basically? A workaholic. It seemed like doing anything without a good reason behind it was a waste of his time."

"Ah." Kristoph nodded. "I know the sort. Perhaps we shouldn't be talking about him, though," he suggested. "Get your mind off the subject... Tell me, Phoenix - what's something we could do that he would never have done?"

Phoenix glanced down at their hands again. "...Holding hands in public, for starters."

"You _must_ be joking."

Phoenix shook his head. "Not at all. Even when no one else was in sight. ...I guess he thought that someone happening to see him acting affectionate would mess with his public image."

Kristoph shook his head in exasperation. "Honestly... I truly don't mean to insult him, I've only seen him in passing, but I don't understand - why were you with a man like that?"

"Because he _isn't_ like that," Phoenix replied firmly. "Growing up in the von Karma household messed with his head, gave him all kinds of neuroses. Sometimes I'd get a glimpse of what was behind that 'demon prosecutor' facade they built for him, and what was inside was totally different. When I got a smile out of him, or some kind of admission that he actually had feelings, it was like a breakthrough, like some kind of great victory - it made me forget all the effort I put in, trying to bring that part of him out, to help him..."

"Mm. It didn't work, though...?"

"It worked to some degree. Just he couldn't let go. Or maybe he could have, if he hadn't been in another country half the time we were dating... or maybe that's why he kept running off - so he wouldn't have to let go." His fingers tightened in frustration, but then he realized they were clenching around Kristoph's, and he loosened them quickly. Never mind that Kristoph was squeezing back. "More than anything else, even the murder, I think that's what I hate most about Manfred von Karma. How he messed up Miles. He filled the children he raised with anger and suspicion. Franziska turns some of hers outwards, and I think that helps her cope a little better, but Miles turned all of his inwards, and..."

"...I understand," Kristoph said quietly, with a nod. "You were trying to do something good for him. Like you are now, for Trucy."

"In a way," Phoenix admitted, "what von Karma did to Miles played a part in my decision to adopt Trucy. I mean, Valant was basically her next of kin. If no one else acted first, he could have taken her, and we still don't know for sure that he didn't kill her grandfather and frame her father... or that her father was framed at all - he might really have done it, and he might come back for her... or there could be someone else involved with them that we don't know anything about. Whoever was responsible for all of this - I don't want someone that messed up coming anywhere near her. I don't want her to be... twisted, like von Karma twisted Miles."

"A noble cause," Kristoph agreed. "You're a good man, Phoenix. I hope for your sake that prevention works better than reversal."

Phoenix nodded. "Boy, so do I..."

They walked in silence a bit longer, and Phoenix let his thoughts wander where they would. He'd hoped, when he took Trucy in, that having a little girl around might coax Miles's softer side out on a regular basis. Though that was dependant on Miles not _killing_ him for adopting a daughter without asking, because they hadn't exactly discussed having children someday, or in fact pretty much anything about long-term plans for their relationship besides 'I'll see you when I stop by for a weekend this summer', and thinking about that was making him upset again, so he decided to think about something else. Something pleasant, like Kristoph being right here, and having experience with raising a child alone. Phoenix had someone he could go to if he was overwhelmed, and... well, maybe, eventually, he wouldn't have to go far. If things worked out.

If he made himself ignore how traitorous he felt for thinking such thoughts approximately twenty-four hours after breaking it off with Miles, such thoughts made him feel good. Better than he'd felt since the day he'd agreed to a game of cards with Zak Gramarye, at least. He could picture himself walking these paths with Kristoph, each of them holding one of Trucy's hands, sending her off with a smile as she saw the jungle gyms, sitting together and talking on one of the benches as they watched her show off...

"Kristoph," he murmured. "I know it's a little early to think about, and I know Klavier's only barely gotten out on his own, but..."

Kristoph nodded. "I wouldn't object to raising another child at some point," he replied, nonchalant. "I do seem to get on well with children. And raising a much-younger brother isn't quite the same as raising one's own child."

So that wouldn't be an issue, if things got serious between them. It seemed to Phoenix as if that shouldn't have been such a vast relief as it was.

"But Phoenix," Kristoph added seriously, pausing and turning towards him, taking his other hand as well. "It _is_ a bit early to think about. You've only just ended your previous relationship, and any decisions made now would be rather hasty. In my opinion - which you're free to disregard, of course - I believe you should take some time off from trying to move things forward, and think about what you truly want. It may be that in a week, you're so miserable without Miles that you're willing to make whatever compromises are necessary."

"I was miserable without him even while we were a couple," Phoenix muttered. "I don't think that's going to change."

"I will not," Kristoph told him firmly, "be party to pushing you into something you're not ready for. Take a break. Take your time. I've already spent some time waiting to see if I might have a chance with you, and I can wait a little longer."

Phoenix just stared at him in stunned disbelief. "...You know how often I said that to Miles?"

Kristoph leaned forward, kissing him lightly. "And I mean it just as you meant it."

The kiss made Phoenix shiver. "But... I'm not sure _I_ can wait."

"You must," insisted Kristoph. "I want you to be absolutely certain that the decision you're making is the correct one, whenever you make it."

Perhaps ironically, it was that insistence that told Phoenix that the decision he was leaning towards must be the right one. Phoenix didn't think anyone had ever treated him with such unselfishness in his life. That was the kind of unselfishness he had always tried to show throughout his own life - helping people who needed it regardless of what he might get in return, putting their needs before his own trivial wants. Phoenix hadn't ever quite managed it without resentment, and the messy dissolution of his relationship with Miles just proved it, but Kristoph seemed to manage it effortlessly.

Thinking about it, Kristoph was pretty much everything that Phoenix had wanted to be - including the part where somehow, despite the selflessness, he was _successful_. It didn't make sense. It wasn't possible - Kristoph was too good to be true, in fact. Or maybe that was just because...

Phoenix slipped his hand out of Kristoph's as they continued their circuit of the park, instead sliding his arm around Kristoph's waist, and felt Kristoph do the same. Maybe it was because, he thought, he was so thoroughly smitten. He could admit it now.

Despite apparently having drunk himself to insensibility the night before, Phoenix was feeling good, and upon the two of them finding a park bench in the sunlight beside the stream, they settled down there for awhile, watching the ducks and the sparkling water as they exchanged strange tales from the courtroom (Kristoph had to admit, he couldn't think of anything that beat out Phoenix's having cross-examined a parrot), until Phoenix remembered that he did have to work a partial shift that evening. They headed back to the Gavin manor, enjoyed some of the previous night's leftovers, and then Kristoph drove Phoenix back into town, leaving him at the curb beside his building with another light kiss that left Phoenix wanting more.

Even so, his coworkers kept asking him all through his shift why he was smiling. Maybe Phoenix _wasn't_ a lawyer anymore, but he considered this to be excellent evidence even so, and he filed it away to consider.


	4. Chapter 4

Kristoph's suggestion was, Phoenix came to realize, a good one. Despite the uplifting feelings that came when Kristoph called to check on him, and the way his pulse quickened if he allowed himself to think about what could have happened that night at the manor if he hadn't been so cheap a drunk, his thoughts kept returning to the way Miles had sounded towards the end of that phone call. Phoenix hadn't heard his voice so unhappy since a few years ago, during the days just before he left that note on his desk and vanished...

Phoenix couldn't help but worry. Miles had been right when he'd said it was unlike Phoenix to just give up. Phoenix _couldn't_ give up, especially not just because someone came along who didn't have so much exasperating baggage. Kristoph was good to him, probably treated him better than Miles ever had, but... only because Miles didn't really know _how_ to be kind to people, because no one but Phoenix had ever been kind to him. Despite the frequent frustrations, there were plenty of good times they'd shared - and Miles had come so far since those first few weeks they'd been close, he'd made so much progress towards being a more well-adjusted person. If Phoenix left him now, he might close himself off again. Phoenix could imagine it happening all too easily, and just thinking about Miles living the rest of his life bitter and alone, never again allowing someone to get close to him, made him want to cry.

Instead of crying, he called Miles again, a few days later. He got voicemail, which wasn't entirely unexpected (it was a little late for a weekday), so he apologized and asked Miles to call him back - he really did want to talk about this. He got no reply that day or the next, so the following evening he called again, and left a slightly more concerned message - usually Miles was pretty good about getting back to him.

Still he got no answer, and so he made another call in the early hours of the next morning - what should have been the middle of the day in Europe. When he got the voicemail this time, he hung up and immediately dialed again - this was just plain weird. This time, there was a click. "Mi-" he managed to get out, before the phone clicked again, and then Phoenix was left staring at the beeping phone in his hand, bewildered. Well... not entirely bewildered. He was beginning to get an idea of what was going on, and if he was right, he felt even worse about what he'd done to Miles. He had some idea what he might be able to do about it, though.

He napped a few hours, until it was time to get Trucy up and off to school, and once he'd seen her off at the bus stop, he walked to the nearest public phone, shovelling quarters into it until he had enough for an international call.

"Edgeworth speaking."

"Don't hang up on me again, Miles, or I'm not going to have any money left for lunch at work this week."

Phoenix could almost hear the struggle between the different factions of Miles's brain, and when he spoke again, his voice was cold and brittle. "We have nothing to talk about, Wright. We're through."

Phoenix's heart sank. That was Miles's courtroom voice - the kind he'd use to summarize the charges against the defendant, or to dismiss the defense's objection. "I know that's where we left it the other night," Phoenix told him. "But we didn't really talk - I know I was too upset to be clear about things, and it seemed like you were too. So can't we-"

"We're through," Miles repeated. "Clearly, regardless of what I may have wanted, you were ready to move on. That was your decision, and you have made it."

"That's the thing, Miles - I _didn't_ really make any kind of decision. We hung up, but I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You couldn't stop thinking about me." Miles sounded as though he were merely humoring him.

"No, I couldn't. I can't."

"Even while you were with Kristoph Gavin?"

If Phoenix's hair hadn't already been standing on end... "...How did you find out about Kristoph?"

A bitter laugh. "At least you're not trying to deny it."

"Seriously, Miles." Phoenix frowned, his expression turning hard. "Who told you about Kristoph?"

"I was _worried_ about you, Wright. I've had Detective Gumshoe keeping an eye out for you ever since I got the news about the forged evidence-"

Phoenix's eyes narrowed incredulously as he interrupted. "Wait, you were having Gumshoe _spy_ on-"

"Not _spy_, Wright - I had him watching you because, as you pointed out when last we spoke, it would take me some time to get there to take care of you myself. ...I was concerned that you might do something foolish in your misery. And if you did, I wouldn't be able to get there fast enough."

As Miles spoke, Phoenix's anger and disbelief slipped away, turned to shame. Miles had been _concerned_ for him? He'd set Gumshoe to look out for him? "...Miles... I had no idea."

"Apparently not, or I'm sure you'd have kept these pictures of you and Gavin from reaching my inbox. The very next day, at that."

"...Pictures?" Phoenix froze, his mind going over the possibilities. Had Gumshoe been in the park on Saturday afternoon? Nearby when Kristoph kissed him briefly outside his office building? He'd been so relaxed, being with someone who wasn't afraid of a little public display of affection, he hadn't thought to pay any attention to whether or not anyone actually _was_ watching them.

"I'd had my suspicions, and now I have confirmation. You don't change your mind at the drop of a hat, Wright," Miles continued coldly. "I know you better. You've had feelings for him for a while, haven't you?" His voice lowered, and for a moment, Phoenix could hear him behind the courtroom voice - really _him_. "At least I know you well enough that I can believe you waited until after you'd dismissed me. You're too kind to cheat on someone."

This was much, much worse than the last phone call, mostly because everything Miles was saying was true, and Phoenix knew it. It made him feel sick. "...Miles, I didn't want to hurt you. I never would want to hurt you."

"Or anyone else. I know." A long pause, and then an exhausted sigh. "I know I was never a big enough man to accept all you had to give. I shouldn't have been surprised at all."

"...Miles..." Phoenix thought he could physically feel his heart breaking.

"Perhaps you'll have better luck with him."

Phoenix was desperate enough to spell it out for once - if it made Miles uncomfortable, then so be it. "I _love_ you."

There was a lengthy hesitation, static crackling through the airwaves. "...I suppose I'm a fool for believing you... but you think you love _everyone_, Wright. Maybe you even do. ...Gumshoe told me what he overheard the two of you speaking about, and although I appreciate the attempt to 'fix' me, I can't be someone I'm not."

"_Miles-_"

"Please don't call me again." Miles's voice was suddenly flat once again. "Every time you do, I lose a day of productivity."

"Wait-"

There was a click, and then Phoenix had to stand there, trying to catch his breath, before he could manage to walk back to the office in a daze. For once, he didn't want to call Kristoph. Or Maya, or anyone else who usually would cheer him up. He just wanted this to not have happened at all, and he didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't want to see anyone or anything that would remind him it had.

It was, he thought, one of those rare occasions where he would consider taking a page out of Larry's book and drinking himself stupid, but even with his utter intolerance for alcohol so recently confirmed, he could hardly afford that on a retail salary. Plus, he had to work that evening, and it wouldn't be good for him to be completely wasted when Trucy got out of school either. Instead, he lay down on the office couch and fell asleep, and didn't wake up until half an hour before his shift; Trucy, concerned that he was so exhausted he hadn't even woken up to meet her at the bus stop after school, was willing to let him sleep while she made her own dinner - but he _did_ have to go to work.

Trucy woke him the next morning as well, to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she set out to school. She told him she'd made her own lunch, and she hoped he cheered up soon (and how did she _always know_ when something was bothering him? They'd barely known each other for a month and a half...), and then produced a big pink flower out of the end of one of her trick wands for him. ...He couldn't help but smile, tucking it behind his ear, but the smile only lasted until she was out the door, and then he nodded off again.

Somehow, he managed to sleep until she got out of school, after which she _did_ wake him up for a change, looking concerned. Was he going to sleep forever? Her old daddy had said that her mommy had fallen asleep, and that was when she disappeared... At that, Phoenix couldn't really feel sorry for himself any longer, and made himself get up to spend some time with her, making an after-school snack and watching cartoons together on the couch. It wasn't so much that he was tired anyway - only tired of being conscious.

His phone rang just as he was starting to think about finding something for her dinner (he hadn't been hungry for the last couple of days, and knowing this, she'd made him eat a couple of her apple slices anyway), and he took it to the reception area to answer it - it was Kristoph. "How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a few days."

"..." Phoenix wasn't sure how to answer that. Or that he really wanted to talk to Kristoph at all. He knew it wasn't actually Kristoph's fault that he and Miles had fallen apart, but he'd been the final wedge between them, and Phoenix couldn't forget that at the moment.

Kristoph was fairly perceptive, of course. "...Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"...No more wrong than it was already, I guess," Phoenix admitted. "It's just..."

Kristoph was quiet, letting Phoenix explain about the phone call. When Phoenix was done, he sighed faintly. "I'm sorry to hear things came out so badly."

"Like I said, it would have been over if I'd left things as they were, too," Phoenix told him. "Just... now I know for sure it's over. Really over. Even if I decide I want him back, I can't have him."

"It seems absurd," Kristoph observed, "that he should get so upset over nothing more than holding hands or kissing."

"I guess he cared about me more than I thought... whether that came out as jealousy, or just... wanting me to have someone who would do those things with me." Phoenix covered his face with his free hand, never mind that no one was there looking at him anyway. "I think this is the first time in my life I've honestly wished I'd never been born."

"Don't think that way," Kristoph scolded him gently. "You've done many people a great service in your life. Think of the clients you defended - including Miles. He might be upset with you now, but if you hadn't been there when he was accused of murder, how much worse off would he be?"

"True... but now that I'm not a lawyer, I'm not really doing anyone any good. Except maybe people who want fresh fruit at low prices."

"And Trucy, who has no one else in the world but you. Raising and supporting a child is a very important task."

Phoenix bit his lip. "Okay... yeah, you're right. I just feel like I've messed everything up right now."

"That feeling will pass," Kristoph assured him. "Give it some time. ...In the meantime, I called to ask you about something."

"Hmm...?" Phoenix couldn't even really muster up curiosity, much less enthusiasm.

"I just got off work for the weekend," Kristoph told him, "and again I have no plans. Perhaps we could have dinner at my place again?"

"Mm..." Phoenix couldn't decide whether he liked that idea or not. On the one hand, it would get him out of the house, and he could spend some time with Kristoph. On the other hand, he would have to make himself leave the house. "I don't know... I probably wouldn't eat any more of it than last weekend, and besides-"

"That just means we'd have leftovers for lunch tomorrow."

"But I also can't go dropping Trucy off in Kurain every weekend," Phoenix pointed out. "It's kind of like handing off my responsibilities as her father."

"So bring her along."

Phoenix hadn't really thought about that. "Would that be okay?"

"I'm sure there will be enough food for all of us - especially if you don't feel like eating," Kristoph reasoned. "And isn't it about time we were properly introduced?"

"Yeah... I suppose it is." That is, if they were going to be together now that Miles was out of the picture. But now that Miles really _was_ out of the picture... Phoenix just didn't know. He had no idea what he wanted, if he wanted anything at all.

...Maybe he should find out.

"Uhm... one thing, Kristoph."

"Yes?"

"You kind of implied earlier that I might stay the night again. If Trucy comes along..."

"She can sleep over too. We had plenty of spare rooms to begin with, and even gained another when my little brother moved out."

Phoenix thought about this for a moment. "That would be imposing." He was sure of it.

"Not if I'm inviting the both of you."

"...Okay, maybe not, but..." ...There had to be _some_ reason that wouldn't work, because the suggestion was leading him to believe that spending the night was inevitable, and if it was, then maybe other things were inevitable too. At the very least, possible.

"No buts, Phoenix," Kristoph chided him.

"Well, no, I wasn't planning on bringing Larry."

Kristoph chuckled, and Phoenix smiled a little, feeling a bit more himself. That was probably a good enough reason to accept...

"Trucy, sweetie?" he started, sticking his head back into the main office. "I don't think I really have to ask, but - would you like something better than a nuked frozen dinner tonight?"

"Well, yeah," she admitted, looking uncertain, "but do we have enough money for burgers again?"

Phoenix laughed a little, and put the phone to his ear again. "Okay, I guess we'll accept your invitation."

"Marvelous. Shall I be by in half an hour?"

* * *

Trucy's reaction to meeting Kristoph was slightly different than Phoenix had expected, as she climbed into the back seat of Kristoph's sedan, snuggling up to Phoenix as he introduced them. "Oh... so you really _are_ a friend of Daddy's," she confirmed, smiling brightly.

"Hmm?" Phoenix murmured curiously, putting an arm around her as she buckled her seatbelt.

"I saw him the other day on my way out of school, and he knew my name and said it was because he knew you. But I didn't know who he was, so I didn't talk to him," she explained, and then nudged Phoenix. "You buckle up too. Sorry, Mr. Gavin!"

Kristoph chuckled as Phoenix obediently fastened his own belt, and pulled away from the curb. "No apology necessary, Trucy. You're a smart little girl, knowing not to talk to strangers."

"Well, if I never talked to anyone who was a stranger, then I wouldn't have any friends, and I wouldn't have a daddy," she reasoned. "But I know enough not to talk to them on _their_ terms."

"Um, Trucy?" Phoenix put in. "The rule is, you're not to talk to strangers without someone you know present."

"But Daddy, how am I supposed to find you a good job if I can't talk to people I don't know and I don't know any people who own businesses?"

Phoenix put a hand to his head in exasperation as Kristoph gave him a questioning look in the rearview mirror. "She thinks I can do better than working at the supermarket."

"I _know_ you can!" she insisted. "You said you used to play piano, right? You should do that!"

"Is that so?" Kristoph inquired. "I wasn't aware that you were musically inclined."

"I'm not," Phoenix said flatly. "That's why I _used_ to play piano. And honey, it's not like people are always out there looking for someone to play piano for them. It's hard to make it as a professional pianist."

"Maybe, but it's hard to make it as a professional magician, too," she told him firmly. "If I can do that, you can do this."

"She's right, you know," Kristoph added, amused. "If not as a pianist, I'm sure that there's something you can do that would bring in a better salary than stocking produce. You're an intelligent man, and you should make use of that intelligence."

"See? Mr. Gavin thinks so too, so next week? I'm going to call around."

"Uh, I really don't mind just stocking produce for the time being," Phoenix muttered.

Kristoph looked as though he were trying not to laugh. "Hmm - nagging you to eat, telling you to buckle up, finding you a better job... are you sure _she's_ not the one who adopted _you_?"

"Someone has to take care of him," Trucy said seriously. "Did you know he lets the wastebasket pile up until it's overflowing before he takes it down? If I wasn't here to remind him, the whole office would be full of trash."

Phoenix's expression was pained. "...Trucy..."

Kristoph laughed. "I didn't know that, no. Odd, when he's so enthusiastic about keeping the toilet clean."

"Are you kidding? He never cleans anything else!"

"At least of the two of you can have fun mocking me," Phoenix sighed. But honestly, he wasn't _too_ embarrassed - and they were talking comfortably, and that was a good sign.

"Hmmm, and since taking care of you is such hard work..." Kristoph glanced back at Trucy for a moment. "Perhaps you'd like some help taking care of your daddy?"

She nodded. "Do you know someone who would make a good mommy?"

This time, it was Phoenix's turn to snicker at the suddenly blank look on Kristoph's face.

* * *

Seeing as Kristoph _had_ invited both of them to stay the night if they got tired early, Phoenix had packed a bag with pajamas for Trucy, just in case. He'd also put a few other things in there - a quiet dinner was probably not so much fun for an energetic kid like her, so it was best to have something more interesting around during the visit. This worked out well, because while Phoenix offered to help Kristoph with dinner (he couldn't just let Kristoph continually prepare meals for him and his daughter without repayment or reciprocation), Trucy was happy to sit down in the sitting room and read a library book she'd just gotten.

"Still right where we left her," Phoenix reported, returning to the kitchen after looking in on her. "Give her a book of optical illusions, and she'll be happy for quite some time. And probably try to find a way to work it into her routine."

"Routine?"

"She already considers herself a performer," Phoenix explained. "I guess she has performed publically here and there, with her family... but if she has to go solo, that's what she'll do."

Kristoph smiled over the cutting board. "Very cute."

"Yeah, isn't she? Not just cute, though - she's a genius. I think you weren't that far off the mark, about her having adopted me. These days," Phoenix admitted, his head hung low, "she's probably doing me more good than I'm doing her."

"Don't be absurd - she's still a child," Kristoph reminded him, setting the knife aside and stepping around the end of the counter. "She wouldn't be able to make it in this world without you."

"...I don't know if I could make it without her either."

Kristoph's arm slipped around his shoulders. "You should have more faith in yourself," he murmured, bending his head close.

"Right now?" Phoenix shook his head. Last weekend, he would have enjoyed having Kristoph so close. This weekend, after that conversation with Miles, he just couldn't manage to feel like anything other than a traitor. They had dinner to prepare, too. "Anyway..." he said after a moment, "where was I?"

Phoenix wasn't much of a cook, though he'd picked up a little experience in college - perhaps he'd gone a bit beyond the traditional bachelor staples of mac and cheese or sandwiches, but only a bit. Kristoph claimed that he wasn't anything special either, but he'd been exposed to a variety of foods in his childhood, when they'd had a family chef, and thus had decided to learn to make them himself. At any rate, both of them could read a cookbook, so as long as Kristoph could explain some of the culinary terminology, they were managing well enough, and Phoenix didn't feel entirely useless.

He also had to admit that actually helping to prepare the food, working with it and everything, was making it seem more appealing. In fact, it was becoming appealing enough that by the time he was pouring the berry filling into the pie crust and scraping the bowl to get every last bit out, he swiped a finger along the inside, scooping up some of the leftover sugar and cornstarch and fruit juice, and stuck it in his mouth.

Seeing this, Kristoph smirked as he brought over the other half of the pie crust, to put it on top and crimp it down around the edge. "Impatient for dessert?"

"...Maybe a little," Phoenix conceded. He sort of had to, when his finger was already in the bowl again, scooping up more of the leftover pie filling.

Before he could bring it to his mouth again, Kristoph's hand was on his wrist, gripping it. "That's a bit unsanitary."

"Nothing more from this bowl's going in the pie," Phoenix pointed out. "And even if it did, cooking it would sanitize it."

Kristoph was peering oddly at Phoenix's red-smeared index finger. "Is this the finger you hurt last week?"

"Nope, other hand."

"Ah. I was hoping that none of this was blood."

Phoenix laughed softly and shook his head. "No, it's all healed anyway, I haven't even bothered with-" He was interrupted abruptly by Kristoph's smirk twisting, just a little, as he drew Phoenix's hand closer, closing his lips around the fingertip.

...Despite his earlier apathy towards Kristoph's closeness, Phoenix couldn't exactly deny that this intrigued him. He was sure that this shouldn't have been as hot as it was. It was _pie filling_. On his _finger_. But Kristoph was sucking, his tongue swirling around the end and licking the sweetness off the tip, and Kristoph's other hand came up to hold his hand steady...

"...You're doing that on purpose," Phoenix observed.

Kristoph smiled around his finger. "Apologies," he murmured, drawing back and looking up to meet Phoenix's eyes. "It seems I'm interested in dessert as well."

Phoenix's fingertip was still damp from Kristoph's mouth, and Kristoph still held his hand between his own. Phoenix felt something in his stomach lurch. Or maybe a little further down. "...Kristoph," he murmured, and wasn't quite sure where to go after that, because Kristoph's gaze seemed paralyzing.

"Perhaps I'm being too forward?" Kristoph asked. "I truly don't mean to push you to anything you're not ready for. But determining your interest is another matter."

A hesitation, and Phoenix drew in a sharp breath. "I just... I don't know, Kristoph. Besides," he added, making himself break off the eye contact, "Trucy's right out there, and she's probably hungry - we should finish up in here..."

Kristoph's soft, acquiesing hum sounded disappointed, but he relinquished Phoenix's hand and turned back to trimming the pie crust. "We might talk further later on this evening, then - if you're still awake once she's been put to bed."

"...We might," Phoenix agreed. And maybe it had something to do with the fact that he'd spent most of the last couple of days asleep, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to be tired until he was good and ready to be tired.

* * *

Trucy was not quite so content by the time Kristoph and Phoenix emerged from the kitchen, and was whining a little about being hungry for whatever smelled so good, but that was quickly remedied by Kristoph offering her some of the leftover berries from the pie. By the time dinner was ready, her lips were stained red, and Phoenix's fingers were rather a mess again from eating a few himself. If not for the fact that Trucy was there, and that he was now properly hungry, he might have asked Kristoph if he wanted an appetizer.

He _was_ in a better mood now, wasn't he? He couldn't help but be in a better mood with Kristoph and Trucy around. It felt warm and comfortable, when he didn't let his thoughts stray.

As always, Kristoph played a gracious host at dinner, and engaged Trucy in conversation as they ate - he knew all about her old family. As a matter of fact, he said a recent client of his had a young daughter, a little older than she was, who was very shy around him, but she opened right up when he discerned that she was a fan of Troupe Gramarye, and asked her about them. Phoenix was silently impressed. There was no need to get Trucy to 'open up' (the occasional struggle was to get her to _shut_ up), but at least it looked like Kristoph really _was_ good with children.

No wine with dinner that night - not for Trucy, of course, and not after the last weekend's mishap - so after the meal, when Trucy was already stifling yawns (it had been a rather late dinner), Phoenix was still wide awake. Having confirmed with Trucy that she didn't mind staying in a strange place for the night (she'd travelled a lot with her old family, so the thought of staying in a new place overnight was nothing unusual), he started getting her ready for bed while Kristoph cleaned up a bit in the kitchen. This all seemed so easy, so _normal_, Phoenix thought as he got out her toothbrush and toothpaste, and watched her grin foamily at herself in the much-larger mirror in Kristoph's much-larger bathroom. He could... very easily get used to this.

Once she was settled in one of the guest rooms, with a stuffed bunny and Mr. Hat standing guard, Phoenix found Kristoph waiting downstairs in the sitting room. "I would offer you a drink," he remarked from the sofa, "but I suspect it would be counterproductive."

Phoenix smiled sheepishly. "...Counterproductive to _what_?"

"To anything but you falling asleep," Kristoph replied, and gestured for him to come and sit down. "And me being quite bored in your absence."

"I can't really guarantee you won't be bored with me awake, either."

Kristoph met his eyes as Phoenix sat down beside him. "...You _could_... but as I've said many a time, I'm not trying to push."

Phoenix chuckled vaguely. "Not pushing, sure. Only insinuating and tempting."

"I have been a bit mischievous, haven't I?"

"That's fine. I couldn't say I really mind." Phoenix still felt like a traitor, but if Miles had spelled it out so plainly that there was nothing left to betray...

"Are you certain?" Kristoph asked, sitting up straighter, looking at him seriously. "It's clear that you're still preoccupied."

"Yeah... I probably will be for a while." Phoenix didn't meet his eyes, just stared down at the floor. "I've never been good with goodbyes. Especially when they're not on good terms, and... I can't really think of any that went this badly. It just... it goes against everything in my nature not to try anything I can to make up with him."

"Then why don't you?"

"That's what that last phone call was," Phoenix muttered. "It only wound up making things worse. I guess I don't know how things could get any worse than they are _now_... but I didn't know they could get worse last time, either, and they did."

"Hmmm..."

"Besides," Phoenix added after a moment, "it's not like this was a misunderstanding. My feelings _had_ been changing, and I _was_ frustrated with him never being around, and I'd been struggling for a while with what I felt for you. I can't... I can't just call him and say all of that went away. It hasn't."

"And I can't say that I'm not pleased to hear it," Kristoph murmured, sliding closer, putting an arm around his waist. "Not the part about it being a struggle, of course - but if one man you care for has foolishly cast you aside, it's good to have another you can take comfort in, and I feel fortunate to be that other."

Phoenix sighed, leaning his head on Kristoph's shoulder. "I _am_ glad I've had you with me through all of this. You and Trucy... She gives me a reason to keep going, and your support keeps me from completely collapsing. I don't think I could even express how grateful I am for all you've done in the last couple of months."

Well, no, he decided. ...Quite possibly he could.

"It's not necessary," Kristoph assured him, squeezing him tighter. "Wasn't it your mentor, Ms. Fey, who used to say that a lawyer is someone who smiles even when times are hard, even when the situation seems impossible?" Kristoph shrugged slightly. "And I _am_ a defense attorney, after all."

Mia... Phoenix closed his eyes. What would she say if she saw him now, disbarred and depressed and working at a supermarket? After he considered this for a minute, though, he thought he knew exactly what Mia would say. She'd say that he couldn't give up, even if he didn't have his badge anymore, even if Miles wasn't on his side. He was still the same person he had always been, and he needed to look on the bright side, keep moving forward. The same as she had done, after Diego had been poisoned. Losing someone you loved was hard, but it was a _part_ of life, not the end, so you must press on, do the things that would bring back your smile...

"Kristoph...?" Phoenix lifted his head, opened his eyes to look at the other man seriously. "...I don't want you to be my _lawyer_ right now."

Kristoph raised an eyebrow curiously, but then Phoenix was pressing his lips against Kristoph's, one hand on the back of his neck to draw him closer - and Kristoph was doing the same, his other hand resting on Phoenix's hip. Phoenix's other hand clenched in the back of Kristoph's shirt as he felt that tongue caress his lips as it had his finger earlier, and he opened his mouth to admit it, touching back with his own.

Despite sitting right up against each other, Kristoph seemed too far away for Phoenix's taste, but when he started to lean back, drawing Kristoph with him, Kristoph paused, breathing heavily, even as he carefully supported Phoenix's change in posture. "Phoenix," he murmured. "This _isn't_ necessary."

"No, but I want to." A lot more than kissing, too.

"You're still distraught - I wouldn't want you to do anything you regret."

"I don't have any reason left to regret anything I do with you," Phoenix said breathlessly, as Kristoph shifted to a horizontal position as well.

"You won't be thinking of _him_?"

Phoenix shook his head, dazed. "_No_, Kristoph - I've wanted you for... weeks. _You_, Kristoph. Even when it would have been cheating. It's _not_ now."

"Are you sure?" Kristoph was kneeling on the sofa above Phoenix now, one knee slid up between his legs, but not as far as Phoenix wanted. "I wouldn't want to cause you further pain..."

The way Kristoph was above him, but not touching him... "Yes..."

To his relief, Kristoph gave in, his hand cupping Phoenix's cheek as he leaned down to kiss him again, and soon was settled atop him. Their arms were wrapped around each other as their lips came together over and over, sometimes missing, but that was fine with Phoenix, who gasped as Kristoph's mouth found his jaw, his chin, his cheek... His knees were drawn up around Kristoph's waist, and he wondered as he ground his hips up against Kristoph's just when that had happened.

He moaned as Kristoph's hand worked between them, touching his chest, but Kristoph was only pushing himself up, pushing them apart. "...I don't believe the sitting room is the appropriate place for us at this point. If you're intending for this to go any further..."

"Yes," Phoenix groaned. How could Kristoph even think to ask? It would be torture to stop now.

Kristoph began to get to his knees, and Phoenix would have been amused at the crooked tie and the curl of hair sticking up from the top of his head if he hadn't been so overwhelmed by everything else. "You're absolutely sure?" Kristoph inquired again.

"_Please_, Kristoph. ...Please."

Kristoph helped Phoenix get to his feet, and somehow they made it up the stairs, down the hall to Kristoph's bedroom, where Kristoph managed to turn on the bedside lamp without knocking it over despite the darkness and the fact that Phoenix was kissing him again. His hands had worked their way under Phoenix's shirt, cool against the warm skin there, and Phoenix felt their absence almost painfully when they moved to unbutton his shirt. His own hands were shaking, and he had only barely gotten Kristoph's tie loose before he had to shrug his own shirt off, and then Kristoph was unbuckling his belt, getting his pants down past the hip before bending him back to lie upon the bed.

Rather than getting them off the rest of the way, Phoenix stared up at Kristoph as he crawled on top of him, kneeling between Phoenix's parted knees and looking down at his half-naked body with an intense, appraising stare. "You enjoyed my teasing earlier, didn't you...?"

"Tease, what the..." Phoenix was not in a frame of mind to speak clearly, but he got his answer when Kristoph raised a hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers into his mouth. "Ah, yeah..."

"It may have been a bit crude," Kristoph observed when he removed them, reaching down to slip the other hand inside the front flap of Phoenix's boxers, freeing his growing erection. Phoenix drew a hissing breath as the wet fingers touched the sensitive flesh at the tip, stroked down the length. "But I did enjoy your reaction. It made me anxious to see..."

Phoenix squirmed as Kristoph leaned down on his elbows, moaned loudly as Kristoph took him into his mouth. He was working with his tongue, just as he had with Phoenix's finger, and his own fingers slid wetly up and down the shaft... Phoenix could hardly stand it - Kristoph's mouth was so hot and wet, and the skin below his lips so sensitized, and Phoenix clenched and unclenched his hands in the covers, trying to keep himself from thrusting.

Even without moving his hips, the tension was building, and the way the tip of Kristoph's tongue was teasing the head of his cock was becoming too much to bear. Just when he thought that he should warn Kristoph, instead he groaned, as Kristoph abruptly drew back, and instead of wet warmth, Phoenix was surrounded by chill air on his damp skin. He murmured a faint curse. "...Kristoph..."

"Not yet," Kristoph murmured in reply, licking his lips and getting to his knees again. "Not yet. Relax for a moment, if you please."

Phoenix tried, following Kristoph's motion with his eyes as Kristoph leaned over him to open a compartment in the wooden headboard. From what he could see through the pants, it looked like Kristoph was just as hard as he was, though no doubt not so overstimulated. Also... "...You're still dressed."

"I'll take care of that in a moment," Kristoph told him, settling back with a small bottle in his hand. "For now, why not make yourself comfortable? ...I would suggest rolling over."

...That was new. Phoenix shivered at the thought - he and Miles were always face to face, Miles had never... Phoenix made himself put thoughts of Miles firmly aside, and focused on Kristoph. This was something he would try with Kristoph. "...I've never done it like this before," he admitted, obediently turning over, wriggling out of his pants and boxers in the process.

"I find the angle advantageous," Kristoph stated, and Phoenix, face-down in a pillow, wondered how he could think of words like that in this kind of situation. He could hear fabric rustling - Kristoph undressing - and turned his head enough to watch out of the corner of his eye. Admittedly, he liked to watch his partner, but the excitement of trying something different made up for that lack. And, he thought, doing things differently meant that even if he couldn't see, he wouldn't be able to forget it was Kristoph and not... someone else...

It _was_ difficult to see anything, though, and in his position, Phoenix could mostly only tell what Kristoph was doing from the sounds. Fabric moving, the pop of the bottle being opened, a wet sound and a hitch in Kristoph's breathing... the tremor of the mattress as Kristoph moved between his legs again, pushing his thighs further apart. Phoenix drew a breath in anticipation, and then remembered something, an afterthought. "Uhm, are you using, uh..."

"We're protected, yes." Kristoph's voice was usually perfectly steady, but even if his speech was still proper, there was a shakiness to it now, something raw and ragged. Phoenix found it fascinating, and really did wish he could see the look on Kristoph's face. "How much preparation do you need?"

"Not much," Phoenix mumbled. Actually, he wasn't sure - he hadn't been on the receiving end for a rather long time (it had been awhile since he'd had sex at all, in fact) - but he didn't feel like waiting any longer than he had to. "As long as you're slippery, I'll be fine."

"All right, then..." One hand came to rest on Phoenix's rear briefly as Kristoph got on top of him, and Phoenix knew it would be all right - it was slightly slippery. Kristoph's long hair tickled his back, and then his shoulder as Kristoph leaned forward to murmur in his ear. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time, Phoenix."

Phoenix was going to say something along the lines of 'me too', but instead he clenched his teeth, his entire body tightening, as Kristoph thrust into him. He could have used a little more preparation after all, he realized belatedly, but Kristoph was moving inside him, and his hips raised instinctively, and it didn't take long for Kristoph to find just the right angle, the one that made him cry out, and any remaining pain or tension was forgotten as Kristoph thrust into him again and again, his breathing hot and harsh in Phoenix's ear. He could hardly imagine it was Kristoph - calm, terminally proper Kristoph - making that sound. It was like nothing he'd ever imagined from Kristoph, and it was _fascinating_.

There was only one thing that bothered Phoenix, and he tried to correct it, letting go of the covers with one hand to reach beneath himself - but before his hand got there, Kristoph paused to catch his wrist, and Phoenix moaned as he pinned it to the mattress. Miles had always seemed to like having his hands pinned, and now Phoenix could kind of see why, because it was interesting, being completely at someone's mercy when it was someone you knew you could trust - and then Phoenix moaned again as Kristoph's other hand came down to do what he'd been intending to do himself, groping and stroking and fingering him in time with the thrusts.

Phoenix's hips rocked up to meet Kristoph's as his thrusts grew slower, deeper, and still weren't enough. Phoenix's gasps and moans were stifled by the pillowcase but growing in intensity, and Kristoph too was uttering soft, desperate sounds that Phoenix could _feel_ as breath on his shoulder, and the spiral curl of his hair traced circles on his back. He murmured Kristoph's name, but there was no reply but the harsh breathing, a little choke, lips pressed softly against his shoulder - and that was what pushed him over, that single sweet gesture amidst the unexpected roughness, and Phoenix cried out and held onto the covers for dear life as his body shuddered under Kristoph's.

He was dimly aware that Kristoph wasn't quite finished, but a few more thrusts seemed to be enough, then Kristoph was propping himself up on his elbows over Phoenix, who had collapsed flat on his stomach. Phoenix could feel every one of Kristoph's panting breaths on the sweat-dampened skin of his back, could feel the brush of Kristoph's hair as he pushed it back over his shoulder, and he smiled, eyes closed, at the imagined sight of Kristoph trying to regain his composure. "...Wow," he muttered dizzily. "Didn't know you had it in you."

"Hmm...?" Kristoph's voice still sounded a little shaky.

"I always figured," Phoenix mumbled into the pillow, "that you'd be all... well, slow and careful and gentle. You're always so calm in everything else."

Kristoph chuckled breathlessly. "I suppose it's a side of me that rarely sees light. ...Is that a problem?"

The pillow moved as much as Phoenix's head. "No... it was interesting. ...I can definitely say that I've never been _fucked_ like that before."

"The long wait may have had something to do with it." Kristoph sounded much more like his usual self already, and then he pressed another soft kiss against Phoenix's shoulder.

It made Phoenix's skin tingle, and he smiled. "I hope I don't have to wait a long time to do it again."

Kristoph's arm came to rest over his shoulders, as Kristoph finally settled down beside him. Phoenix had never seen him with the glasses off before; his eyes were so pale, an icy blue. "You're all right with this, then?" he inquired.

Phoenix nodded, though the euphoria faded a bit with the reminder of why he might not be. "I'm glad you're so different... that way I can't forget it's you."

"Excellent," Kristoph murmured, and again kissed his shoulder before closing his eyes. "I think I would be quite cross if you did."

For some reason... something about that struck Phoenix as very odd, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it when he was so satiated and exhausted.


	5. Chapter 5

Spending the night with Kristoph, Phoenix quickly found, was not nearly so casual as it had been with Miles. This should have been obvious, when he thought about it; he hadn't needed to worry about a child's whereabouts when he was with Miles, or what would happen if she had a bad dream or wasn't feeling well, or if she got up a little earlier than he did and came looking for him. It was Kristoph, accustomed to the need for the discretion that came with living with a child, who insisted that they couldn't possibly sleep naked, and probably shouldn't spend the night in the same bed at all. Not that Trucy seemed to think anything of it, when they did one night collapse together in Kristoph's bed and she found them the next morning - she said sometimes her dad and Uncle Valant had to share beds on the road too. After that, though, Phoenix was absolutely convinced Kristoph was right about not sleeping naked.

Besides the Trucy factor, Kristoph was even more uptight than Miles had been about making sure everything was in its place afterwards. He hated a mess, and felt compelled to clean up at once, changing sheets if necessary, running a comb through his hair... The sheets could be explained away by the same reasoning as not sleeping naked; the need to pretty himself up, as far as Phoenix could tell, was simply an amusing display of vanity.

Or, Phoenix began to think over time, it may have been something else.

Kristoph was... _weird_ about sex. He was all too willing to pleasure Phoenix in whatever way seemed interesting at the moment, but he never let Phoenix return the favor. And when it came to good old-fashioned (well, as old-fashioned as you could get) intercourse? It never got any less rough than it had the first time, and Kristoph didn't seem interesting in trying any different positions. When Phoenix made suggestions, Kristoph simply said that he'd found he preferred it like this, and Phoenix wasn't going to push.

No way was Phoenix going to push. Even if it was kind of weird, the only downside to being so thoroughly fucked in Kristoph's preferred manner was the part where the next day, he had to try not to walk funny in front of Trucy. It was good - better than just good, honestly - even if it was odd.

Phoenix had his theories, of course. With his overactive imagination, he couldn't help but think about it. Probably it was just some kind of control issue - Kristoph's image, both personal and professional, was of someone who was quietly, calmly in charge of the situation. No one could dispute that Kristoph wasn't in charge in the bedroom, especially when he had Phoenix pinned down and muffling his shouts in the pillows, but maybe he just didn't like anyone to see him lose his composure. Or maybe it was some other kind of issue, more serious... Kristoph didn't speak of his past history, and Phoenix didn't think it was important enough to ask if he wasn't offering, since they always used protection. He wondered from time to time if something really unusual might have happened to cause Kristoph's demeanor to change so drastically, but it... well, it wasn't really any of his business, was it? And he'd annoyed Miles enough in days gone by, prying into things that weren't any of his business, even if it was because he wanted to help.

Miles... There was hardly a day that went by without Phoenix thinking of him in some capacity, and his nights alone were frequently spent wondering if he was all right, or if Phoenix had completely _broken_ him this time, finishing the job that von Karma had started. He thought of calling several times, but what was he going to say? He was with Kristoph now - it wasn't like he could just change his mind - and eventually the thoughts of Miles, though still frequent, didn't mean an instant bout of depression and self-loathing. In fact, anytime Phoenix started to mope about Miles or his ruined career, Kristoph was more than willing to make him forget about it.

His relationship with Kristoph, after all, was just fine. Despite the quirks (and there were others beyond the bedroom, like the nail polish; Phoenix generally found them amusing and endearing, and he certainly couldn't say he had no annoying habits of his own), he and Kristoph were enjoying themselves. Kristoph was good with Trucy too, of course, just as Phoenix had suspected, and she didn't seem to resent his intrusion into their lives.

Months passed, however, and Phoenix was beginning to wonder why Kristoph wasn't _more_ of an intrusion into their lives. They didn't see each other every day - Kristoph sometimes stopped by during lunch hour, and invited them over on the weekend if Phoenix had a night off, and there were phone calls in between visits... but it seemed odd, given their financial situations and housing arrangements, that Kristoph hadn't stepped in yet again with the generosity he'd shown time after time, and asked if Phoenix and Trucy would like to move in with him. And well, even if it seemed like the kind of thing that Phoenix had expected him to do before long, Phoenix certainly wasn't going to be presumptuous enough to suggest it himself.

Besides, it seemed a little unfair to pack Trucy up and move, when she'd just recently gotten settled in the office and in her school. Since she'd arrived right at the end of the year, with no former _normal_ schooling to speak of, all summer had been spent in what were normally remedial classes. Fortunately, she breezed right through them, and had been quite proud of herself for proving herself worthy of jumping right into 3rd grade, exactly where she should be. She'd only just started the actual school year, and was very much enjoying the opportunity to be around lots of kids her own age - who were still young enough to be more impressed by her magic tricks than put off by her odd manner of dress, to Phoenix's relief.

Little did he know that she wasn't satisfied with that audience, until the day she told him that she wanted to walk home from the bus stop herself that afternoon. Phoenix agreed; it wasn't that far, and he'd kind of accidentally let her walk home on her own a couple times before, so why not?

Because she had something else in mind, apparently.

The bus might have been delayed, Phoenix told himself when she was five minutes late. She _might_ have just been hanging out with a couple of her friends at the stop, given her newfound freedom, he told himself when she was fifteen minutes late. Five minutes later, he was out the door, tracing their usual route to and from the bus stop. There was no sign of Trucy, or any other children her age, and he practically _ran_ back to the office, his heart in his throat. One time - just _one time_ \- and she was-

His frantic thoughts were cut off by the Steel Samurai theme, coming from the cell phone in his pocket just before he crossed the street. He didn't even bother looking at the number as he hurriedly picked up. "Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Wright? Trucy's father?"

A female voice, unfamiliar. Phoenix didn't know whether to be relieved or more afraid. "Yes, who is this?"

"My name is Erin Rumore - I'm a coordinator at the Wonder Bar."

"The Wonder Bar...?" That was a couple blocks past the bus stop, if Phoenix remembered correctly.

"Yes. It is a bar. Which serves alcohol." The woman's voice grew tight. "Would you be so kind as to come and collect your extremely underage daughter?"

"What?!" Phoenix exclaimed. "Trucy? At a bar? What's she- Is she all right?"

"She's just fine, Mr. Wright."

Sure enough, in the background, he heard another, more familiar voice. "Ms. Rumore, please! Just let me show you-"

"She seems to be under the impression, however," the woman continued, "that she's applying for a job."

Phoenix sighed heavily, though his heart felt much lighter already, just knowing that Trucy was safe. On the other hand, what must Ms. Rumore think of a guy who'd let his eight-year-old daughter try to get a job at a bar? And honestly, what kind of father was he, if his eight-year-old daughter was _trying_ to get a job at a bar? "I'll be right over. I'm sorry if she's caused any trouble."

"No, she's caused no trouble. A great deal of confusion, certainly, but..."

"Sounds like Trucy, all right," Phoenix muttered. "I'm on my way - shouldn't take more than about five minutes."

"Thank you."

Since he'd been running only moments earlier, it took him less than five minutes to get to the Wonder Bar at what was comparatively a leisurely brisk jog. Yes, it was the place he remembered - and thank goodness it appeared to be a nice, clean establishment without any seedy overtones, unlike some of the places Larry had dragged him off to over the years. It was bad enough imagining Trucy in a bar at all, and to think of her in a place like Larry's usual haunts, loud and raucous and dimly-lit. But then when he stepped inside, he immediately changed his opinion of the place. For mid-afternoon, it was _incredibly_ loud, full of cheering and whistling...

Until his attention was drawn to the cause of the cheering and whistling. There, in the middle of the bar, was his little girl, shooting showers of sparks out of the ends of her wand as she twirled it.

"Thank you, thank you!" Trucy called out to the few afternoon patrons - and the wait staff, who were standing still and watching her as well - as she finished with a flourish and a bow. "For my next trick, I'll need-"

"Trucy!" Phoenix exclaimed, waving a hand at her as he hurried forward. "What do you think you're-"

"Daddy!" Seeing him, Trucy's eyes lit up. "Okay - _you_ can be my volunteer!"

"What?!"

Trucy grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the stage. "Don't worry, Daddy - I'm not going to try to saw you in half again. That was a lot of mess to have to clean up..."

The audience, such as it was, laughed. Phoenix boggled. It was too early for them to be drunk yet (unless they were really, really dedicated) - Trucy really _was_ entertaining them. Okay, so _he'd_ always thought her antics were entertaining, but he knew he was kind of biased, being her dad and everything.

But this was absurd. "Trucy-"

"Hold this for a second, will you?" she said, ignoring him completely and handing him her wand as she turned to take something else out of her backpack. ...Just how many of her props had she smuggled to school that morning, Phoenix wondered - and then jumped as a bouquet of flowers suddenly sprouted from the end. The audience laughed as she turned back and abruptly pouted, hands on her hips. "Daddy, that was too fast."

"But I didn't even do anything!"

"Hmph!" Trucy plucked the bouquet, and turned away again - at which point another bouquet popped out, earning him another exasperated look from Trucy and another laugh from the audience.

There really wasn't much he could do but let Trucy finish the trick, and as he did so, he scanned the audience, somewhat embarrassed. He really _had_ come to take her home, and give her a good long lecture about just how _wrong_ it would be to let her work in a bar at her age. He owed someone there an apology...

But as far as he could tell, everyone watching them on the stage was smiling and enjoying the show.

This included the woman who approached the stage after Trucy had taken a bow (and scolded Phoenix to do so as well). "So you're Mr. Wright?"

Sounded like the voice he'd heard on the phone. "I take it you're Ms. Rumore?" Phoenix said sheepishly, taking Trucy's hand and walking her down from the stage. "Sorry about this. I had no idea she was planning on coming here. And honey?" he began, turning to Trucy seriously. "I know I've been kind of stressed out lately about the bills and everything, but I _promise_ \- we're not so bad off that you need to get a job. You're eight - _school_ is your job right now."

"I know," she acknowledged, looking concerned. "But Daddy, magic isn't just a job. Magic is _magic_. It's something I _have_ to do. So why shouldn't I do it where other people can enjoy it, and where I can get paid for it?"

...This was true. She was doing her tricks everywhere else for free, so it wasn't as if doing it on a stage for money was a chore. "Look, honey," Phoenix explained, kneeling down to address her face to face, "the thing is, you can't do magic _here_. It's a grown-up place, where people do grown-up things. A girl your age shouldn't even be in here."

"But it's the only place I know of that's looking for talent!" Trucy exclaimed. "I saw the sign in the window last week! And I _have_ to keep performing - with Grandpa gone, and Mommy and my first Daddy both missing now, it's only me and Uncle Valant left. We _have_ to keep the spirit of Troupe Gramarye alive."

"Gramarye...?" Phoenix looked up at the sudden interjection; he'd nearly forgotten they weren't alone. "Troupe Gramarye?" Ms. Rumore repeated. "Is this little girl..."

"The daughter of Zak and Thalassa Gramarye, yes," Phoenix said with a nod. "I adopted her after Zak disappeared earlier this year."

"...Well." The woman's eyes widened. "That explains her expertise."

She didn't look nearly so disapproving as she had sounded on the phone, Phoenix observed. In fact, she looked like she was actually considering the idea.

Trucy was obviously hoping so. "So? Did I pass the audition?"

"You certainly did," said Ms. Rumore with a smile. "It's not exactly a typical arrangement, though, for a child of your age to work in a _bar_... The potential for unruly customers and mature behavior makes it a bit... inappropriate."

"It sure does." Phoenix stood, taking Trucy's hand again despite her protests. "Come on - we can find somewhere more appropriate for you to do your magic."

"But Daddy...!"

"However, we do cater largely to college students, some of whom come for our shows with their friends even though they're too young for the drinks," Ms. Rumore pointed out. "And minors are allowed in with a chaperone. We try to maintain a safe environment for everyone, regardless of age. So as long as you accompanied her..."

"I really don't think she's old enough to work in a bar," Phoenix said flatly, starting for the door.

"Two nights a week, two hundred dollars per show."

Phoenix stopped short.

"It's a little higher than our usual rate for new performers," Ms. Rumore continued, "but seeing as she's a minor - not to mention, such a well-known name - I'd be willing to pay extra."

Enough to ensure that they wouldn't have to worry about where the rent money was coming from. And they would still have enough left over for the utility bills. And food that wasn't mooched off Kristoph.

"And," she added, "the rates would gradually go up with experience and proven reliability."

Trucy was beaming up at him, clearly recognizing the look on his face. "So is it a deal, Daddy?"

"I... I think..." Phoenix looked back at Ms. Rumore, who seemed to recognize it as well. "I think you've just made me an offer I can't refuse."

"Excellent. Why don't we step in back," Ms. Rumore suggested, "and sit down and discuss the details?"

"...All right." The logistics of it were already falling together in Phoenix's mind. He'd have to ask for those nights off his own job...

"Hmm, but you know what?" Trucy said thoughtfully as they started across the bar. "Now I'm making more money than my daddy, and that's just not right."

"It's okay, Trucy," he told her. "Really. It's not like I'm jealous." ...Well, maybe a little. Mostly just ashamed.

"Aw, Daddy, don't get all sad. You could get a job here too! How about it?"

Ms. Rumore looked back to them curiously. "Are you also a magician?"

"Er, no," Phoenix explained. "Just an ex-lawyer. It doesn't really make for a good stage show."

"That's not what I meant," Trucy explained. "Daddy plays piano - and the Wonder Bar has a piano right over there!"

"Uhhhh..." Phoenix froze.

"Ah - so you're a multi-talented family, are you?"

"Go ahead, Daddy!" Trucy urged him cheerfully. "Show Ms. Rumore what you've got!"

"Since I didn't actually go through the entire audition process with Trucy, I _do_ have time for another audition this afternoon," Ms. Rumore agreed.

Phoenix looked at the baby grand Trucy had just pointed out, and which she was now pushing him towards, with dread. "...Do I have to?"

Five minutes later, they were in the back room negotiating _one_ contract. At least it was one more paycheck.

"Very well," Ms. Rumore said brightly as they shook on it. "I'll get the word out right away - 'Trucy Gramarye, exclusively at the Wonder Bar!' It'll look great on our flyers."

"Hey, wait!" Trucy spoke up, frowning faintly. "That's not my name anymore. Since I have a new daddy, my name's Trucy _Wright_."

Ms. Rumore looked startled. "Weren't you talking about carrying on the Gramarye tradition?"

Phoenix knew exactly what she must be thinking - the Gramarye name was known. The Wright name... well, if anyone knew it because of him, it probably wasn't any sort of asset these days. "It's okay, honey," he assured Trucy. "It doesn't matter what they call you on the stage - you're still my little girl. Okay?"

Trucy nodded firmly. "And because I like being your little girl," she stated, "I want to be called Trucy Wright."

...Phoenix really couldn't argue against that kind of logic, and pulled Trucy into his lap for a big hug as he and Ms. Rumore began brainstorming possible _slogans_ making use of the Gramarye name instead.

* * *

And that, Phoenix thought, was that. No more financial troubles. They weren't going to be rich, what with Trucy working very few hours and his job paying little more than minimum wage, but they weren't going to be in constant danger of being evicted, or of having the electricity turned off. Not that they'd ever _really_ been in danger, because Kristoph had offered to help out if they needed it - but the fact that Phoenix had even considered accepting it was proof enough that things had been really, really tight.

But no more. No more worries, no more looking for a better job. They were safe, and they were stable.

At least, that's what Phoenix thought, until Trucy informed him over breakfast one morning that he had a job interview at ten.

"...I do?"

She nodded. "I made it myself yesterday. Make sure you don't miss it! It's at the Borscht Bowl restaurant."

"Uhm..." Phoenix wasn't quite sure how to respond to this latest intrusion. "What, exactly, would I be interviewing for?"

"They're looking for a pianist," she said, giving him a _look_ that told him it should be obvious.

"Honey, you heard me at the Wonder Bar," he reminded her. "I'm just not very good with the piano."

"Really, Daddy - you can't give up so easily," she scolded him. "You know what they say about a talent, 'use it or lose it'! And you just haven't used it for awhile."

"There's a difference between 'use it or lose it' and 'never had it in the first place'."

"You'll do fine," she assured him. "Just go in there with confidence. Knock their socks off!"

"I don't even know where it _is_."

"Oh, fine..." Trucy reached across the desk, now doubling as a kitchen table, and took up a spare pen. "I'll draw you a map," she offered, sketching one on the napkin next to her bowl of cereal. "Honestly, Daddy - how did you ever get along without me around? See, right here's the bus stop, and there's the Wonder Bar, and right over here..."

Phoenix was tempted to just not go. After all, at ten, Trucy would be in school. He wouldn't have put it past her to sneak out of class or something and call this Borscht Bowl place just to make sure he showed up, though - and it wasn't that far away, and he was going in with zero expectations except that he'd be making a fool out of himself, so it wasn't as if this was likely to be a letdown.

A few hours later, Phoenix found himself reluctantly being shown around a freezing Russian-themed club, placed in a building historically known for being a hideout for Japanese-American mobsters who patterned themselves after the Italian mafia, currently under ownership by an entrepreneurial Englishman. Phoenix felt just a little bit dizzy - only in LA - but followed the man downstairs to a particularly infamous room where the gangsters had once conducted their business - one of the building's most interesting features, the owner said. There was a deck of cards laid out on the table for the enjoyment of customers, so they could take in some of the good old underworld atmosphere... and would Phoenix care for a game, before they got to his audition?

Phoenix had some misgivings, thanks to what had spawned from his last game of poker, but it would have been rude to refuse. On the other hand, he wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea of showing off his mediocre musical ability to the people currently upstairs, so he didn't feel too inclined to go easy on his opponent. After having beaten him four times in a row, the man declared that the audition was no longer necessary, for which Phoenix was relieved... until the man explained why.

"...So you're not _actually_ working as a pianist?" Kristoph asked with raised eyebrow that night, as they were having a celebratory dinner at his manor.

Phoenix shook his head. "That's only the job title on paper. And well, I can play the piano if I want to, between customers... But I don't," he added in a mutter.

Kristoph shook his head, amused. "It doesn't sound like so bad a job."

Trucy nodded enthusiastically. "It's an awesome job, Daddy! It's like you get to spend all day doing card tricks!"

"...Kind of."

"You don't seem too thrilled with the idea," Kristoph observed.

"Considering what happened the last time I casually won a game of cards," Phoenix said dryly, "you'll forgive me for being a little wary of what I'm getting myself into."


	6. Chapter 6

Suddenly, with both himself and Trucy having regular jobs, Phoenix had to arrange their schedules accordingly. He was at the supermarket for a few hours some mornings, then went to the Borscht Bowl in the afternoons, picked Trucy up at the bus stop on his lunch break and brought her back to the club with him, then they walked over to the Wonder Bar together for her show after his shift was over. It made for a long, exhausting day, but having Trucy at the club with him after school caused him to make a discovery. It wasn't just that she somehow had gotten to know him very quickly, it wasn't just the bond between them - Trucy could read people like a book. She could tell within a second of his opponents picking up a card whether they were pleased or displeased with it, even on the rare occasions that Phoenix was completely lost. It was uncanny... but time and time again, she nudged him under the table, letting him know, and she was never wrong.

Phoenix never lost a game during his first week at the club. Or his second. Or his third, despite the ever-increasing number of people who challenged him as the word spread. Before long, he'd put in his two weeks notice at the supermarket - the club wanted him working more hours, and after re-negotiating exactly what they were paying him per hour, Phoenix agreed. Between his paycheck and Trucy's, they were able to make rent easily now each month, and still have some left over.

It wasn't bad, working at the club. Phoenix frequently spent a lot of time not doing anything at all between customers, and getting paid for it. If not for the chilly atmosphere (which frequently left him with minor bouts of the sniffles) and the occasional boredom that left his mind to wander towards unwelcome subjects, it would have been pretty much the perfect slacker job. Not that Phoenix particularly liked being a slacker...

"You could always practice on the piano in your spare time," Kristoph suggested when he mentioned it one afternoon, when he paid Phoenix a visit in the little underground room on his way home from the office. "You might even become a proper pianist someday - Trucy would like that."

Phoenix shook his head. "No way - I'd just drive away as many customers as my reputation brings in. ...It is kind of too bad, though," he admitted. "There was a time when I would have liked to be a musician."

"It's not too late."

"Hmm?"

"You could still learn," Kristoph reminded him.

"Heh... I don't want to expose the customers to my amateur banging around, though."

Kristoph appeared to consider for a moment. "What if you could practice at home?"

"Well, that would be less annoying. For everyone except Trucy. And my neighbors." Phoenix sighed. "Not that we have room in the office for a piano - I mean, we don't even have enough room for beds, just the old couches."

"Have you thought about moving someplace larger? ...Perhaps into an actual apartment."

The edge of sarcasm reminded Phoenix of Miles for a moment, but he just smiled at the thought. "I've had a look around... There's really nothing in our price range that's in a good location for someone without a car. I kind of lucked out, inheriting Mia's firm," he observed. "She'd just renewed the lease for another two years, so the price couldn't rise, and then the landlord took pity and didn't bump the rent up too high. ...Or maybe it was because Mia was murdered there," he added, "and with all the talk of spirit mediums coming and going, he didn't think he'd be able to rent out a potentially haunted office."

Kristoph chuckled. "Hmm... Regardless, it's less than an ideal situation."

"I've really sort of gotten used to less than ideal situations." Phoenix paused, eyeing the odd little smile on Kristoph's face. "...What?"

"Oh, nothing..."

Phoenix was curious about what Kristoph had up his sleeve, but the curiosity had been driven from his mind in a few days. He was sitting at his usual table at the Wonder Bar, next to the stage, when Trucy came out from the backstage area in a panic - an unusual situation these days, for she was so comfortable with performing that seeing her head backstage was little different than seeing her head off to the bathroom to get ready for bed - to inform him that there was something wrong with her trick gun.

Phoenix didn't exactly like the idea of an eight-year-old pretending to shoot guns onstage, but it was nostalgic for her, given the old routine that her father and Valant used to do with her mother until the accident; he didn't have the heart to forbid her. "Okay, let me have a look at it," he told her, trying to soothe her. "Maybe I can fix it. What's wrong with it?"

"It just doesn't _feel_ right," Trucy explained, now looking more bewildered than stricken. "I know all my props, and it feels different... and there's these _things_ in it that I didn't put there."

His heart skipped _several_ beats when she placed what seemed to be a real revolver in his hand. "See? It's heavier," she began, "and if you look at this..." With uncanny (and somewhat disturbing) ease, she swung the chambers out, causing a rattling sound, and pointed. "See? There's something in there. ...Maybe you can get them out?" she asked hopefully.

Phoenix did, and then he stood, looking around to find Ms. Rumore. With Trucy tagging along at his heel, asking anxiously what he was doing - her show was about to start, she needed her gun now that he'd fixed it - he strode over to tell the woman that Trucy's show was on hiatus for a little while, and he was taking her home immediately.

Trucy had fits. Just because one of her tricks wasn't going to work didn't mean he had to cancel her entire show - and Phoenix couldn't figure out how he could possibly tell her what the problem really was. She'd never seen guns before, except as part of a stage show - she didn't know what those things in her gun were. And how was he supposed to tell a little girl that someone may have been trying to kill her?

He sat up that night after she'd cried herself to sleep, staring at a handful of real metal bullets and shaking. The trick had been fine the night before, and there had been almost no opportunity for someone to have switched guns since then. He'd had the day off from the Borscht Bowl, so he'd just been relaxing in the apartment until it was time to meet Trucy at the bus stop, and he'd brought Trucy's case of props along then because Kristoph was going to pick them up for dinner at his place before her show. He'd dropped them off at the Wonder Bar afterwards, and then this...

There were really only two possibilities that came to mind, given that he'd seen no one else come near that case. There were two people connected to Trucy, who had potentially already murdered someone close to her, who might for some reason have targeted her as well... and both were good at not being seen. Zak might be out to tie up all the loose ends from his trial, and Valant might wish to ensure that he was the sole heir to Magnifi Gramarye's mysteries. Not that Phoenix could really believe it. He didn't want to believe that anyone could possibly try to kill a child, especially not anyone who that child looked up to and idolized.

He wished he could call Miles.

..._Kristoph._ He meant Kristoph, he told himself. And anyway, he couldn't call anyone, because Trucy was asleep right there on the couch, and he didn't want to wake her _or_ step into the next room; he didn't want to take his eyes off her for a second. He'd known that being a father wasn't going to be easy, but he'd never anticipated how terrified he would be if she was in danger.

Unwilling to sleep, or to do anything that might wake Trucy, Phoenix tried to think of something productive he could do. He really should call the police, he thought, but not when it would wake her up, not when he'd have to explain in front of her. So what would the police do when he called? ..._There_ was an idea.

Phoenix still had the better part of a bottle of fingerprint powder, thanks to Ema. Not that he'd expected he'd have any further use for it after she went off to school in Europe, but he was grateful for it now, as he laid the gun and the bullets out on his desk, sprinkled the powder over them, and blew. ...There. Some of the prints he found on the gun were tiny, and had to belong to Trucy. But there were other, larger ones, and some on the bullets. _Gotcha,_ he thought to himself.

As the sky grew light, everything seemed a little less terrifying to Phoenix. Whoever had done this hadn't tried to kill Trucy themself - they'd only arranged it so that she might hurt herself, or someone else, and by that time they'd have been long gone from the scene. They probably already were. He was going to track them down, and in the meantime, she probably wasn't in immediate danger.

Still mad at him when she woke up, though. After a lengthy, gut-wrenching internal debate, he decided it was probably best to keep a normal routine, and he should let her go to school. She'd be around lots of other people there, and it wasn't as if she was likely to be allowed to play with anything that even resembled a potentially deadly object. Plus, he'd have to explain to her _why_ he was keeping her home, and he still couldn't figure that one out - and he had some business to attend to.

It had been awhile since he'd visited down at the precinct, though everything seemed pretty much the same aside from the bizarre poster of the Blue Badger in black leather and shades that had been stuck up on the wall. He was pretty sure he was officially out of the loop now - but then he spotted the person he'd come to see, and forgot all about it as he hurried over to get his attention.

Gumshoe's face brightened when he looked up to see Phoenix, but his smile quickly turned sheepish. "Uh... hey, long time no see. Er..."

Phoenix just nodded. "Not as long as I'd thought, from what I hear." Okay, so maybe he hadn't _completely_ gotten over that. But all things considered, he didn't want to hand this over to just anyone. It had to be someone he could trust.

The detective chuckled uneasily. "Well, now... this is kind of awkward, isn't it, pal?"

"It doesn't matter," Phoenix told him plainly. "Look, I don't care that you were spying on me for Edgeworth. I don't even care that you sent him those pictures."

"Kinda funny, isn't it?" Gumshoe muttered. "Never would've pegged Mr. Edgeworth to be the kind of guy who would write off a friend just because he swings that way, you know? He's so, well, _modern_. I had no idea... I'm really, really sorry, pal."

...Was it possible that Gumshoe _still_ hadn't figured out that he and Miles had been involved? And... Miles, _modern_? No matter how much some things might change in life, Phoenix supposed, some things would stay the same. Gumshoe and his obliviousness were right up there with death and taxes. "It's in the past now. Right now, in the present, there's something far more important I need your help with."

He'd known better than to try bring the gun into the police headquarters unannounced, of course. It was back at the office, and Phoenix explained the situation while they were en route, in the privacy of Gumshoe's car. Upon arrival, Gumshoe looked over the gun and the bullets and nodded grimly. "Okay, so those little prints are definitely a kid's - unless there's some kid at school with a grudge against her, those have to be Trucy's." Phoenix wondered as Gumshoe hemmed and hawed over the other fingerprints - how exactly would 'some kid at school' possibly get a revolver, and sneak it into her carrying case without anyone noticing? But he said nothing, and just let Gumshoe think.

"Well pal - I can tell you right now that I don't recognize those other fingerprints off the top of my head," Gumshoe said finally.

"..._Are_ there fingerprints you would recognize off the top of your head?"

"Heh, just mine," Gumshoe chuckled. "They wind up all over stuff every time I dust for prints, so now I know to ignore 'em."

Yep, same old Gumshoe. "So can you check them against the database?"

"Of course - since they're not related to a case, though, and we don't even have someone in custody to give us a hint as to the identity, they'll have to wait in line."

"That's okay. And try Zak or Valant Gramarye," Phoenix suggested. "They're the most likely suspects."

After he sent the gun and bullets off with Gumshoe (making sure they were wrapped carefully - he didn't want Gumshoe's fingerprints messing up the results), then Phoenix could call the Wonder Bar, and explain why he'd called off the show until further notice. Obviously, Ms. Rumore understood. And then, _finally_, he could call Kristoph.

Kristoph was very attentive while Phoenix told him the whole story, which was good, because this time the telling of the tale wasn't business. With Kristoph, Phoenix could let himself get a little emotional about it, and knowing he had that freedom, the floodgates were unleashed - all his fear and anger and frustration came pouring out. "Why would anyone do this?" he demanded. "She's just a little girl - the sweetest little girl in the world - how could someone even _think_ to do something like this to her?"

"...She did play a key part in a very unusual trial," Kristoph reasoned, when Phoenix paused in his ranting to take a breath. "I can think of a few people who might have had an interest in silencing her."

"Er, that question was rhetorical... but so can I," Phoenix admitted. "And one of them's her own father, the other might as well be her uncle. I just... I can't _fathom_ what kind of sick person would be capable of this. ...And what happens when they find out their plan didn't work?"

"Then I expect they realize that it was discovered, and that you'll be taking precautions to see that it won't happen again. They'll probably keep a low profile."

"...True," Phoenix admitted. "I didn't make a formal report of it, so it won't be on the news or anything - but if she'd fired the gun last night? It _would_ have."

"Precisely." Kristoph paused. "So you didn't notify law enforcement?"

"Not formally, but I have Gumshoe checking the fingerprints."

Kristoph was incredulous. "Why on earth didn't you file an incident report?"

"We still don't know for sure where that forged evidence came from," Phoenix explained. "It could have come from someone in the police department, or in the prosecutor's office... I don't know who I can trust down there. Except for Gumshoe."

"Not the most reliable investigator," Kristoph observed, "but he does seem loyal and upright. And I would think he owes you a favor or two. ...Speaking of favors, Phoenix - when was the last time you slept? You sound exhausted."

"...Night before last," Phoenix sighed. "I think the only thing keeping me on my feet right now is adrenaline - this has been a complete nightmare."

"Lie down."

It sounded more like an order than a suggestion, and Phoenix had to smile just a little. "Sorry, Kristoph... I can't. I have to be at the Borscht Bowl in a couple hours."

"Call in," Kristoph said simply. "Tell them there's a little trouble with Trucy - which is true - and that you'd prefer to stay with her, to make sure she's all right."

"...I guess they really couldn't say no, could they?" The owner and most of the regulars knew Trucy by now, seeing as she spent a lot of time there with him. "But I wouldn't get a whole lot of sleep anyway, what with picking Trucy up at the bus stop - and there is _no way_ I'm letting her walk home alone," Phoenix added, his tone growing heated again. "Not today, maybe not ever again."

"I could always pick her up from school myself, if it would ease your mind."

Phoenix thought about this. He almost wanted to argue, just because Kristoph wasn't _him_, but he had to admit that that was ridiculous. "That might work..."

"I've had something I wanted to speak to her about anyway."

There was a hint of amusement in Kristoph's voice, which left Phoenix puzzled. "Oh?"

"It's a secret," Kristoph teased him. "Well? Do we have a plan of action? I will pick Trucy up from school, she and I will spend the afternoon together, and you will get some much-needed rest."

"...Okay," Phoenix finally, reluctantly agreed. "But... you should know first - and I'm serious about this - if anything happens to her? I don't know what I'll do."

There was a pause, and Kristoph seemed to get the picture. "I'll return her safe and sound, Phoenix. I promise."

Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks for understanding, Kristoph. And everything else, too... but especially for understanding."

"You've never been difficult to understand," Kristoph murmured.

Phoenix smiled faintly, a little wistfully. Some people he'd known would have said the exact opposite.

"Sleep well, Phoenix."

"Thanks... I'll see you later tonight."

Amazingly, Phoenix really _did_ fall asleep quickly, despite his anxiety. He'd feared that he might have nightmares, but he couldn't recall any dreams at all when he was awoken by his cell phone ringing a few hours later. At first he was afraid it was bad news, but then he saw it was Gumshoe's personal number, and instantly he relaxed. "Hey, Gumshoe."

"Hey, pal - I got a result back on those fingerprints."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, they weren't a match for any of the Gramaryes - I checked them specifically first."

"Uh huh..."

"Since nothing came up there, I just let the database have at it for awhile, just left it plugging away..."

Phoenix was getting just a little impatient. "You _did_ get a match, right?"

"Sure did!" Gumshoe replied proudly.

"And?"

"It's you, pal."

Phoenix facepalmed. "...Right - Trucy handed me the gun last night at the club, and I took the bullets out right there," he muttered. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"I dunno, it took me a couple false alarms before I stopped doing that myself," Gumshoe consoled him. "Happens to the best of us."

"And there weren't any other prints but mine and hers?" Phoenix asked. He had to be sure.

"Nothing. If there were any other prints on there, they were wiped off good before she picked it up," Gumshoe replied. "Whoever did this thought ahead. But it happens all the time, so there are other ways of identifying a gun's owner, you know. I ran a check on the serial number, too."

He didn't seem to be forthcoming with any answer there, either, but with Gumshoe, you could never be sure. "Anything interesting?"

"Interesting, maybe, but not useful. It was registered to a guy up in Seattle - a collector, apparently. He reported it stolen a year ago, along with a bunch of others from his collection. A couple of the others turned up when people tried reselling them, but this one was still missing until now, so looks like someone bought it on the downlow. Never been fired, for the record."

"So that leaves us with no leads whatsoever," Phoenix muttered.

"Nope. Just a whole lot of suspicions."

"Nothing new there." Phoenix stopped and considered, wondering if there was anything else Gumshoe could check on for him, and decided there probably wasn't. "Thanks anyway, Gumshoe. I really appreciate the help."

"No problem, pal," Gumshoe assured him. "Listen, you keep that little cutie of yours safe, okay? And come to me if you need anything. I don't care which team you're batting for, long as you don't try to bunt _me_ \- got it?"

"Got it," Phoenix agreed, trying not to let it sound obvious that he was cringing at the ridiculous euphemism.

The dead-end was frustrating, but Phoenix was still too tired to lie awake dwelling on it for too long. He woke up in the dark, to the sound of laughter and footsteps in the reception area, and sat up just in time to see someone open the door and flip the lightswitch.

"Daddy!" Trucy ran to him cheerfully as he blinked in the sudden glare, and snuggled up next to him, hugging him. "I'm sorry I got mad," she explained. "Mr. Gavin told me you don't like guns. Even ones that shoot kittens out of them."

It was one of her odder tricks, to be sure. "...You could say that. Guns are _definitely_ not something that should be played with."

"Well, I'm not _playing_ with mine," she said seriously. "It's what they call a tool of the trade. But if it bothers you so much... could I just take it out of the act, and go back to performing? Please, Daddy?"

Phoenix looked up to Kristoph in surprise, and saw him smiling faintly. Thank goodness he'd managed to calm her down. "...We'll see, honey. I think you need a little break, though."

She groaned a little, but didn't complain further. "I agree, to be honest," Kristoph spoke up. "I think the two of you can come to an agreement amongst yourselves now, though. Trucy and I had a nice chat over dinner... didn't we?"

Trucy nodded. "I wish you could have been there with us, Daddy."

Kristoph shook his head, amused. "Now, now, Trucy... If your daddy had been there, we couldn't have discussed you-know-what."

"Oh! You're right..."

Phoenix looked back and forth between the two of them. "Okay, what are you two plotting?"

"Nothing that you wouldn't approve of," Kristoph replied cryptically. "Or so Trucy tells me. ...Let's just say that Christmas is coming up soon."

"...Oh yeah." So they were planning some kind of... present?

Kristoph leaned down to smile at Trucy. "Don't go giving away the secret, all right?"

"Nope!" Trucy agreed brightly.

"Anyhow," Kristoph stated, "your daughter is home, safe and sound as promised. Though perhaps a little past her bedtime..."

Phoenix hadn't even thought to look at the clock - Kristoph was right. "Oops. Yeah, it's definitely pajama time, Trucy."

Kristoph stuck around a little longer, waiting in the reception as Phoenix ushered Trucy off to bed - or couch, to be honest. After she was settled, Phoenix slipped out to speak with him privately. "Thanks a whole lot," he murmured to Kristoph, closing the office door behind him. "Obviously she feels a lot better now. And I guess I do too."

Kristoph was simply seated in the chair at the desk, arms folded. "It's no trouble, Phoenix. I'm glad I could be of some help in so strange a situation."

Perching on the corner of the desk, Phoenix smiled down at him. "...I'm so glad I can rely on you."

"Nonsense - you would do the same."

"Yeah, but in this world? There's not a lot of people who would, and I don't know if I can trust most of them even so." He fiddled absently with the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing. "...If we had a little more privacy here, I'd find a good way to repay you."

Kristoph chuckled. "Perhaps another time. In the meantime, a kiss before I go would do the trick."

That, Phoenix was all too willing to give regardless of whether or not Trucy might be listening in.


	7. Chapter 7

Phoenix kind of felt bad for being so stern towards Kristoph in regards to Trucy's safety - look what had almost happened while _he_ was looking out for her, after all, and it wasn't like Kristoph was infallible either - but if he let Kristoph watch her, and something happened? He wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive Kristoph. Or himself, for trusting someone else to keep her safe. He didn't, really, but he was only human; he had to take a break sometimes. And it was, after all, Kristoph.

Days passed, then weeks. Regardless of how disturbed Phoenix was by the incident, he gradually softened, since there were no indications that whoever had done it was making any further attempt to hurt her. He was with Trucy most of the time that she wasn't in school, and on the rare occasion that he wasn't, Kristoph was. Phoenix agreed to let her go back to doing her shows at the Wonder Bar - but no guns or other potentially dangerous items. Not that she had her favorite anymore, since whoever had left the real gun there had taken the fake one, and Phoenix was all too happy to file the real one away in a lockbox. Inside a locked cabinet. Unloaded. He would have preferred to get rid of it, but he knew he shouldn't - should anything else strange happen, he might need it as evidence.

...He still hadn't stopped thinking like a lawyer, six months after losing his badge.

Kristoph and Trucy were up to something, which apparently had something to do with Christmas. This was terribly obvious from the way they exchanged little private smiles, even if not for the occasional admonishment for Trucy not to 'give it away' yet. Phoenix was growing more and more curious, but being from a family of magicians, Trucy was _unnaturally_ good at keeping secrets, and Kristoph was as nonchalantly self-controlled as ever.

It wasn't until one rare Saturday afternoon off, returning from a Christmas shopping expedition of his own with Trucy, that he found out. It had been a long, long day - Trucy had known exactly what she wanted to get for everyone, apparently, but after hitting probably a dozen stores downtown, Phoenix had come to believe that some of these things just didn't exist outside her imagination.

And then, walking down the hallway of his building, Phoenix heard very strange sounds coming from the vicinity of his office. Approaching the door, it grew all the more obvious. There was whirring, banging... He didn't even know if there was a word for some of the strange sounds he was hearing.

Trucy seemed unperturbed when he glanced down at her. "What's wrong, Daddy?"

"...Don't you hear all that noise inside the office?"

"Yeah..."

And she didn't think anything was odd about this? Well, Phoenix sure did, and he frowned at the door. "Head back to the stairwell, okay? I'm going to check it out, and if something's wrong? I'll tell you to run, okay?"

The look on her face made it clear that she thought her daddy was being silly, but she nodded and obeyed. That took care of that, Phoenix thought, and braced himself to open the door.

The reception area looked like a tornado had struck. Furniture was all pushed against the wall by the window, dust hung in the air, there were big chunks of plaster and particle board and planks of wood all over the floor - and there was a gigantic hole in the wall across from the window, where a particularly bland painting had once hung.

Phoenix would have been far more alarmed by this if not for the fact that he could see workmen in jeans and heavy gloves through said hole, drilling and sawing and drawing chalk markings on the floor and walls of the bathroom of the office next door. He was fairly alarmed even so.

"Uh, excuse me?" Phoenix began, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of construction. "I uh, think someone got the wrong address... or something... ...What the hell is going on?!"

Before any of the workmen could answer, Kristoph appeared through the door from the office. "Ah, you're back, Wright - and a bit later than anticipated. Trucy did an admirable job of delaying you."

"Wh... What?"

"There was, of course, no way that this could be finished in a single day regardless, but I instructed her to keep you away from the office at least into the early afternoon, so that we could make as much progress as possible." He smiled at some point behind Phoenix. "Nice work."

"Thanks!" Trucy piped up cheerfully, and Phoenix glanced back to see her grinning from the doorway. "What do you think, Daddy?"

"What do I think?" Phoenix repeated, baffled. "Uhm, I'd have to know _what's going on_ before I can tell you what I think."

"Renovation," Kristoph said simply. "It's not that your office lacks space - only that it lacks organization. I spoke to your landlord in regards to the amenities that were lacking here, and the possibility that you might well decide that you have to move on soon." Kristoph idly adjusted his glasses, and they glinted in somewhat ominous fashion. "After a bit of discussion, he agreed with me that you should not be without such things as a kitchen or bedrooms."

Phoenix just stared at Kristoph. Okay, so he knew Kristoph could be a little devious in the courtroom, but... "...You got permission to _renovate my office_? Without me even being there?"

Kristoph nodded. "You did give me your key, and the man has seen me coming and going regularly. We had a very nice chat, the landlord and I."

Phoenix didn't know what to say. "...I'm getting a kitchen? And... and bedrooms?"

"Small ones, admittedly - as I said a moment ago, it's more a matter of rearranging the available space rather than adding more, unless you wanted the rent to rise drastically. But it should serve the purpose of an apartment as well as an office now. And there's one more thing..." Kristoph added, motioning towards the office proper.

Once through the door, Phoenix just stopped and stared at the far wall. A row of filing cabinets had been moved aside, to a spot beneath the window; in their place was a full-size, beautiful black upright piano.

"Now that you'll have the place better organized, there should be plenty of room for this," Kristoph reasoned, stepping over to lay a hand across the fine, smooth surface. "And since my brother moved out, there hasn't been much use for it at the manor. It may need a little retuning after its journey up the stairs, of course. ...Merry Christmas," Kristoph added, crossing his arms with a little smirk.

"Merry Christmas!" Trucy echoed, throwing her arms around his waist from behind. "Are you happy?"

Phoenix _still_ didn't know what to say. So instead of answering, he just leaned down and swept Trucy up in a hug, and... well, forget about Trucy, or the workmen in the next room - Phoenix wanted to kiss Kristoph, and so he did. Very emphatically.

Trucy giggled in his arms as they parted, Kristoph still with an arm around his shoulder. "Yup - he looks pretty happy to me, Mr. Gavin!"

* * *

Phoenix had never thought of Christmas as anything really special - his mother was Jewish, so it wasn't a big deal in their household. Thus, the idea that Kristoph had gone to all this trouble and expense for the occasion on his behalf was bewildering, and maybe a little overwhelming.

From all appearances, however, the Gavin family went all out for Christmas in general, decorating and celebrating to what seemed like nearly an absurd degree. The halls of the manor were 'decked', that was for sure, and Kristoph's brother took a break from prosecuting for a series of holiday concerts. Afterwards, he came back to the family manor to host a series of parties - some of them more formal than others, Kristoph told Phoenix wryly, and Phoenix could just imagine.

Klavier was there Christmas Eve, at a final quiet holiday gathering with a gigantic fir tree in the sitting room, glittering with silver and white ornaments, candles burning in windows hung with garlands and velvet bows, and a roaring fire in the fireplace despite the fact that it really wasn't very cold outside at all. The younger man had his eyes hidden behind mirrored shades when he raised his head from the acoustic guitar he'd been fiddling with in his lap, but something about the way his eyebrows drew together at Phoenix's approach told Phoenix that he was feeling a little uncomfortable. "Herr Wright," he acknowledged with a nod, sitting up straighter on the sofa. "...You're doing well?"

"Surprisingly well," Phoenix replied, and after a moment smiled, when he realized he meant it. "It's okay, Klavier. The committee went overboard, yes - but you couldn't overlook something that was wrong. It's not your fault."

"I still can't help but feel bad about it," Klavier admitted, and pocketed his sunglasses to look Phoenix in the eye seriously. "Kristoph tells me you didn't even _know_ it was forged. When I called you on it, I believed you were the one responsible."

"And I can't say I'm completely okay with everything that happened," Phoenix told him, sitting down at the other end of the sofa. "I still don't know who set me up by giving that paper to Trucy, and my life's been turned upside-down... But you know what? After the dust settled, I found out the damage wasn't so bad as I thought." And he wasn't sure what Kristoph had told Klavier about the two of them, but... "Kristoph's been a big help."

Klavier grinned a little, hesitantly. "Just like my big brother, ja? He's always been good at cleaning up messy situations."

Things really _weren't_ so bad, Phoenix reflected as he and Trucy sat beside the fire with Kristoph, stirring warmed cider with cinnamon sticks and singing carols along with Klavier and his guitar. All right, so he wasn't a lawyer anymore. But he'd mostly become a lawyer for one thing, which he'd accomplished. His financial situation honestly wasn't any worse now than it had been when he was a lawyer, and in some ways was better, since he got paid regularly now instead of worrying about when the next client would come along, and how far the money from the last one would stretch. If he got paid at all. Of course he had Trucy, who brightened his life in ways he never would have imagined, even if she did add a whole new set of problems. And then, to help him deal with those new problems, he had Kristoph.

The one thing that really didn't have a bright side, he thought, was his breaking up with Miles. Sure, he had Kristoph now instead, and it wasn't as if he could have had both Miles and Kristoph at once, but it wasn't as if Kristoph was a _replacement_ \- he was a completely different person than Miles. And now that Phoenix had had time to settle down and think about things without getting emotional, he had to admit that most of the things that had frustrated him about Miles didn't actually bother him that much. He didn't dislike Miles, he didn't regret their relationship or think of their time together as a bad memory - he'd just been frustrated.

Late in the evening, the four of them sat down around the tree and passed out presents to be opened. To go with some warm fleecy sweatshirts and hoodies that Trucy had picked out so he wouldn't keep getting mild colds every few weeks from working at the frigid club, she'd also decorated a rather ridiculous knit hat, which now stated in large pink letters, 'PaPa'. Ridiculous or not, he was touched, and put it on at once - and it was then that he remembered why his thoughts had been drifting to Miles all night.

Once Trucy was tucked into bed, before he went back downstairs to join Kristoph and Klavier for a glass of wine, Phoenix stopped outside her door and considered calling him. It wasn't a bad hour in Europe, even if it was Christmas already - if he was even in Europe anymore. For all Phoenix knew, he could be back in the states. He could be right there in the city. But then, too, there was the fact that even if it was a decent hour, and even if Miles didn't refuse to answer a call from his number, he probably wouldn't welcome a reminder of what had happened just after Christmas nearly two decades ago.

...On the other hand, Kristoph had mentioned that Franziska was at the courthouse a few days ago, so she was almost certainly still in town.

"Phoenix Wright!?" came the incredulous response, as he ducked into one of the other guest rooms to make the call in private. "Why in the world are you calling at this hour?"

"Um, Merry Christmas?"

"Fool - you've never called to wish me a merry Christmas before," she pointed out. Then she paused. "...Is this about my little brother?"

"Okay, you got me," Phoenix admitted. "Sorry if I called at a bad time... I just haven't heard from him for awhile, and was wondering if he was doing all right. ...Especially right now, you know."

"Hmmph... The obvious question," Franziska observed, "would be 'why don't you call him yourself and ask?' ...But considering his behavior in recent months, I'm not such a fool that I believe I need to ask such a foolish question."

So she had been onto them, huh? "Is he still in Europe?"

"France, the last time I spoke with him." For a wonder, Franziska didn't sound irritable to have to answer his questions. "I believe he was going to be there through the end of the year."

"Ah..." Phoenix didn't really know how to respond, but he was glad to at least have _some_ clue. "Uh, you said something about his recent behavior. How's he doing?"

"He's been throwing himself into his work in a respectable manner. If he keeps it up, he just might make a proper von Karma after all."

"Mmm..." Phoenix didn't quite manage to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "That's kind of what I figured."

And of course, Franziska was perceptive. "...If you're asking if he's been happy? In a word, no. But what else could one expect? And he seems to be coping well enough."

Since she was clearly already aware of what happened, Phoenix decided to just be honest. "I swear I never wanted to hurt him. ...And I didn't call to see if he's miserable without me. That's not what I want."

"Of course not - your unselfishness is one of your most irritating character traits." She said it so matter-of-factly that Phoenix had to smile a little. "He knows it too, of course," she added. "I believe that's what keeps him pressing onward."

"He told you that?"

"No, but it's obvious enough - I've seen him wallowing in his misery before, you realize. Right now, he's not."

"...I'm really glad to hear that."

There was a soft, almost sympathetic sigh. "This is always a difficult time of year for him," Franziska acknowledged. "He usually hides himself away for a few weeks, during the most festive part of the season. This year is no different - no better, no worse."

"That's good to know." Phoenix was entirely serious. "Hey, listen... next time you talk to him, tell him I..." ...Come to think of it, Phoenix didn't know what to pass along. That he said 'hi'? That was useless, and impersonal nearly to the point of being offensive. 'Merry Christmas'? Like rubbing salt in a wound. 'I miss you'? True, but he didn't want to make it sound like he was sitting around longing to have Miles back, either - it would only let Miles down if _he_ felt that way. "Tell him... I still think of him often," Phoenix decided finally.

"He would never reciprocate," Franziska noted softly. "But I'm certain that he does."

"...And Franziska? Seriously - Merry Christmas."

"Likewise," she replied quietly.

As Phoenix hung up, he heard someone's footstep at the door - Kristoph was there, and probably had been for some time, as he was only shifting positions. "Franziska von Karma?" Phoenix nodded, and Kristoph raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky my brother doesn't know you're on such good terms as to call her at such a late hour - he followed her career obsessively when he was a child. Watched all her trials on television... He was not unlike the little girls who now throw themselves at _his_ feet..."

The mental image of Klavier being a hyperactive screaming hysterical fan of anyone was just too amusing, and Phoenix had to laugh. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Kristoph affirmed, and stepped further into the room, approaching Phoenix. "...You were calling about Miles."

Phoenix nodded again, and sat down on the bed. "His father was shot only a few days after Christmas, when we were kids... I don't like the thought of him sitting somewhere alone and upset."

"It's not your responsibility anymore," Kristoph reminded him, sitting beside him.

"I know..."

"So come downstairs," Kristoph urged him. "Forget about it. Now that Trucy's been put to sleep, Klavier just opened a fine white that I've been saving for some time."

"Hmm, that sounds good." Except that when Phoenix thought about it again, it also sounded _wrong_. "...Isn't he underage?"

"Not in some countries in which we've lived - and I'll be chaperoning, of course, so he could hardly overdo it. Besides," Kristoph added, "He's the prosecutor. I'm merely the defense attorney."

Phoenix grinned. "He could always prosecute you for providing alcohol to a minor."

Kristoph smirked slightly. "My brother would do nothing of the sort," he stated, and leaned over to kiss Phoenix lightly. "Klavier's always been a good boy - good enough to know, too, not to drink enough of the _very expensive_ wine to do damage to himself. That's what the _cheap_ wine is for."

Phoenix laughed aloud. "Like you'd have cheap wine in your house."

"No - only cheap drunks," Kristoph pointed out. "You, on the other hand... Please try not to pass out so quickly this time - it would be a rather uninspiring way to end such a pleasant gathering."

Phoenix's grin turned sheepish. "I'll see what I can do." He was fully in agreement with Kristoph - even if this hadn't been the first time he'd ever _really_ celebrated Christmas, he couldn't imagine it going more beautifully than this. To be honest, he didn't want it to end.


	8. Chapter 8

The holiday season stretched on into New Year's, during which Kristoph stated his refusal to watch the festivities in Times Square - Klavier's band was playing, and Kristoph was quite clear about what he thought of his brother and his second guitarist butchering 'Auld Lang Syne' with guitar duels. Instead, he picked Phoenix and Trucy up shortly before midnight, and the three of them went to watch the city's own fireworks display over the ocean. It was pretty much the same thing Phoenix had done for the last couple of years, though with a better view of the fireworks, but everything seemed to be better with Kristoph and Trucy around.

Though the holiday season effectively ended with that, there was the aftermath to deal with. Phoenix hadn't overspent, though Trucy had spent a little more than he was comfortable with, so things would be tight for awhile... especially since he suddenly had something like an apartment to furnish.

Mia's office _had_ been a fairly large one, since she had intended to expand eventually and take on a few more partners. Both office and reception could have been set up with dividers to accomodate this, but Redd White had cut that dream of hers down. Phoenix had thought about asking her if it was okay to change the place, during a day trip to Kurain, but realized then that he would have to explain what happened, and why he wasn't a lawyer anymore, and the thought of looking Mia in the eyes and telling her what he'd done... He couldn't do it. No more than he could have done so with Miles. Telling Mia would have been even worse, after all she'd done for him. He therefore put it out of his mind, having told himself that she'd understand that he had to do what he had to do, just like she had once upon a time, when she left Maya behind in Kurain.

And what he had to do now was turn the office into a decent place for his daughter to grow up. The reception area had been changed into two (admittedly small) bedrooms off a narrow hallway, though they weren't furnished yet. Phoenix was himself fine with sleeping on a couch (he'd been doing it for years), so a bed for Trucy was the top priority. The office was still basically an office, but the old bathroom had been renovated into a small kitchen, complete with sink and stove and refrigerator. This meant he could finally cook in ways that involved more than taking frozen dinners out of the mini-fridge and putting them in the microwave, if he remembered to go shopping regularly. The office next door was vacant, so its bathroom had become their new bathroom, seeing as it was better placed in this new arrangement... Phoenix still could hardly believe that Kristoph had managed all of this.

Sometimes, while Trucy wasn't around (since it was a little embarrassing), he did work on improving his skills on the piano, trying to recall the lessons he'd taken briefly. Not that remembering lessons he'd already taken was going to make him get better than he already was, but the little he recalled was at least going smoother with some practice.

Then, one day, as he was putting the fallboard down over the keys after a halting attempt at Billy Joel's 'Piano Man' (it seemed like a song he should really learn, given his current occupation), the little round hole in the front center of the polished wood caught his eye. He'd noticed it before, of course - a keyhole to lock the piano closed, maybe - but this time he puzzled over it. Kristoph hadn't mentioned a key, and the hole was just... round. He knelt down to peer into it, wondering if there was a proper keyhole inside, and saw a flat glassy surface.

Not a keyhole, then - but Phoenix couldn't think what it could be, otherwise. It kind of looked like a window. Maybe it was just decorative? Seemed kind of out of place on an otherwise plain, dignified instrument.

And for some reason, it gave him the creeps now that he'd noticed. The urge to figure this out caused him to lift the fallboard again, just far enough that he could get his fingers in between it and the keys and feel up underneath, to see if there was anything behind that little round bit of glass.

...There was a wire running along the underside of the fallboard, attached to what seemed to be a small cylindrical piece of plastic jutting out on the far side of that hole. Following the wire the other way, Phoenix found something larger down by the end of the board - something flat was mounted there, then another wire ran out and back into the space where the fallboard retracted. This reminded him of something... Phoenix just couldn't put his finger on it. Except literally, he thought to himself in annoyance, and he bent down a little further to see if he could actually see what was inside. All he could make out was a dim red glow. Not that that made him feel any less concerned.

Okay, so there was a glass circle at one end of a cylinder that had a red light on it, a wire running from that to something flat, then inside the piano. Phoenix couldn't imagine what it could be running to inside the main body of an acoustic piano, so logically that meant... Phoenix tried to take a look behind the piano - he knew there was an outlet there - but didn't see anything.

Fine, so there was something electrical inside the piano. Maybe that was normal, nowadays - there was technology in everything else, after all. Maybe he should ask Kristoph later. It was just that... something seemed wrong about this. And very familiar.

It wasn't until later that afternoon, picking Trucy up from the bus stop, that Phoenix remembered. On the way to the Borscht Bowl, they passed an electronics store with ads in the window for 'the smallest digital camcorder in the world', barely the size of a pen.

...Matt Engarde, and the stuffed bear. _That_ was where he'd seen something like the device inside the piano before.

Phoenix felt a sudden chill. There was no way Engarde had gotten out of prison - and even if he had, there was a certain someone who no doubt would happily prevent him from causing any trouble. Not to mention, when would the man have had access to his office, or Kristoph's manor? It had to be someone else.

He kind of had to find out before he went back to the apartment, or there was no way he was going to be able to sleep there. There was a possible explanation that left him a lot less worried (if a lot more exasperated), so once he got back to the club, he brought Trucy downstairs to the Hydeout and told her he had a phone call to make upstairs - so if any opponents came along, could she entertain them until he got back? He was mildly worried that he might be exploiting her, but considering how eager she was to show off her magic tricks, maybe not. At least _she_ seemed to consider it a good opportunity.

"Detective Gumshoe, sir!" came the enthusiastic reply on the second ring. "Working hard, sir!"

"Gumshoe? It's me, Phoenix Wright."

"Oh - hey, pal!" Gumshoe's voice relaxed. "How've you been? Have a happy holiday?"

"Yeah... it was really nice, actually. But something weird's going on now... Uhm, I can call back if you're busy."

"Nah, I'm not doing anything important," Gumshoe assured him.

Phoenix frowned slightly. "Didn't you just say you were working hard?"

"I always answer my phone like that, in case it's the boss. What's going on?"

...Yeah, Gumshoe's perpetual inefficiency was sort of comforting, in a weird way. A universal constant when everything else was falling apart. "Well, I was just wondering... are you still supposed to be keeping an eye on me for Edgeworth?"

"Uh, no..." Gumshoe said sheepishly. "After I sent him those pics of you and Mr. Gavin, he said that was more than enough, and that I was no longer needed... Haven't heard from him since, actually."

"...Oh. I had no idea." Suddenly, Phoenix felt kind of bad for him - he hadn't wanted the fallout from himself and Miles to damage anyone else. But he had something to take care of. "So, er, you haven't put spy cameras at my office or anything, have you?"

"Huh? Of course not, pal - I'd never go that far. That would be illegal!"

That _would_ have been too simple an explanation, Phoenix supposed - he just didn't like the alternative. "...Well... I'm pretty sure _someone_ did."

"What? Who?"

"I don't know, but I suspect it was probably the same person who replaced Trucy's gun with a real one."

Phoenix explained to Gumshoe what he'd found in the piano, and was a little relieved to have Gumshoe's confirmation that it almost certainly had to be a camera, rather than something dangerous - after all, if it was an explosive or something, why would the person who put it there drill a hole? That only made it more likely someone would see it. Still, the idea that someone was spying on him...

"Whoever put it there either has access to my office or Kristoph's manor," Phoenix observed. "I don't remember for sure if that hole was there when I saw the piano at Kristoph's. But it's possible it could have been planted before it was moved, especially if it _is_ the same person who switched the guns. I mean, Trucy's props were only ever at our place, at his, or in her hands before that night's show, and most of the time that carrying case was at my office, I was there too. And the office is kind of small - I'd have noticed someone there without a doubt."

...Just for a moment, he wondered. Immediately, he felt bad about it. Sure, it was just because he was so worried about Trucy's safety, but jumping to ridiculous conclusions wouldn't help him solve this mystery.

"Hmm... If we knew, it could sure narrow things down," Gumshoe muttered. "At least we'd know where to focus."

"Exactly," Phoenix sighed. "At any rate, someone's watching me and Trucy, and I don't know who. Unless they were trying to keep an eye on Kristoph, and it was just their bad luck that the piano was moved to my place instead."

"Hey, why don't you try asking him?" Gumshoe suggested. "Ask him if he ever noticed there was a little hole in his piano."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that..." Phoenix was getting more and more worried, though. "Look, I should probably be going. Trucy's downstairs, and right now I really don't want to leave her on her own for long. Even if I _am_ standing right here, in front of the only way down."

"Yeah, you keep a close eye on that girl," Gumshoe agreed. "Anything else you want me to do? I could come by and have a look at the thing..."

"Thanks, but until I know who put it there, I don't want to tip them off. If I-" Phoenix was cut short abruptly, as the door opened on the far side of the club, and Kristoph walked in, glanced towards the piano, then towards the stairwell Phoenix was standing next to. "I'll talk to you later - Kristoph just showed up. Might as well ask him now."

"Okay - let me know what you find out."

"Sure thing - thanks, and bye."

"Hmm, I would have expected you to be at the piano, if not downstairs," Kristoph said as he approached, and Phoenix quickly slipped the phone into his pocket. "Who was that on the phone?"

Maybe it was just that he'd been spending so much time with Trucy, watching her read her opponents. Maybe he was starting to pick up some of that trick himself. Or maybe it was just that despite his disgust with himself for thinking about it earlier, he was thinking about it. But regardless of the reason... "That was Maya," Phoenix said, nonchalant. "She wanted to know if Trucy and I wanted to come up for a weekend sometime - maybe you too."

Kristoph chuckled. "I believe all three of us have an awful lot of obligations to arrange something like that."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Kristoph paused. "...Did she call you, or did you call her?" he inquired.

"She called me."

"The reception's rather poor to get a phone call downstairs, isn't it?"

Funny - the way Kristoph was subtly undermining his statement was a little like the way he cross-examined a witness. Phoenix shrugged and smiled. "She called me as I was on the way back from picking Trucy up, and I sent Trucy on ahead. So what brings you here? Done at the office?"

"I was at the courthouse today for a trial. It ended quickly enough."

"Did you win?"

Kristoph nodded. "The prosecution hardly had a leg to stand on, in this case."

"That's good. Well, for some people," Phoenix amended.

"Indeed." Kristoph nudged his glasses up idly. "So at any rate, I thought I'd stop by and say hello. I thought perhaps I'd find you attempting to play the piano. Or are your 'lessons' not going so well?"

Phoenix shook his head. "Nah... I guess I'm improving a little, but not enough that I want to inflict my playing on the general public without their permission."

"How kind of you," Kristoph said with a little smirk. "My old piano is working out for you, isn't it? Did the tuning help?"

...Kristoph had been in the apartment himself when the piano tuner came, Phoenix recalled - since Kristoph was out of work in the evenings, and Phoenix was not. The piano tuner probably would have noticed if something strange was inside the piano...

"Yeah, it helped a lot," Phoenix replied with a nod. "I had a question, though..."

"Oh?"

"Do you have the key for it?"

Kristoph looked slightly puzzled. "The key...?"

"Yeah. For that lock on the fallboard - I'm sure I annoy the neighbors enough with my own banging on it, so I'd kind of like to make sure Trucy can't get at it and annoy them even more."

"Ahh, that key. When you're talking about a piano, and music in general," Kristoph pointed out, "perhaps you should be more specific about which 'key' you're referring to."

"Heh, I see what you mean." Phoenix was starting to get a very eerie feeling about this conversation. "So you have it?"

"I apologize," Kristoph replied, shaking his head. "It's been lost for years. But to be honest, Phoenix - don't most parents _encourage_ their children's interest in music?"

Phoenix tried to completely ignore that first part for the time being, because there was no way he could process it and remain casual. "Did you encourage Klavier's?"

"...To a point."

The rest of the conversation was pleasant, inconsequential. Afterwards, Phoenix remembered very little of it, because... well, basically because his brain was screaming at him.

There _had_ to be some sort of explanation. Maybe there _had_ once been a keyhole there, and whoever put the camera in its place removed it. And since they lost the key, Kristoph had never paid enough attention to notice. Yeah, that was a possibility.

It was just that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he'd always wondered. After all, he knew Kristoph had been around that carrying case. And Kristoph's steadfast belief in him, his willingness to befriend him just at the point where he couldn't even have used the excuse of Phoenix being a fellow defense attorney...

He'd explained that, though. Phoenix already knew that he'd been in the news several times for turning around hopeless, high-profile cases. Kristoph said he'd been following the stories, doing more research - he'd become fascinated by Phoenix's career, and then by Phoenix himself. It didn't matter that he wasn't a lawyer anymore, he was still the same person, with that same sense of justice, that same determination that would keep him going...

Which was exactly the sort of thing Phoenix had wanted to hear at that time. And that would have been pretty obvious to anyone.

He was just being paranoid, Phoenix decided. Just because Kristoph showed up and asked about the piano just after he found something strange inside it... And he had good reason to be paranoid, considering the incident with the gun, and the fact that they still didn't know where the forged evidence had come from... and that had been Kristoph's brother's first case as prosecutor...

...All right - now he was getting _really_ paranoid. If Kristoph, or anyone, wanted to make Klavier win the case, they wouldn't have needed to give Phoenix false evidence - all they would have had to do was let things run their course, seeing as Phoenix's case had pretty much been blown apart except for that one ripped diary page. He couldn't even be sure what the forger had wanted to accomplish - whether they had wanted him to win or wanted him to lose.

Phoenix tried to put it out of his mind. Kristoph had stood beside him during his disgrace, he had no motive for any of this nonsense, and he wasn't going to repay him by making up crazy theories about him.

But regardless of Phoenix's ideas about who could have put it there, there was still a camera in his office. Phoenix could feel it staring at him when he and Trucy returned home that night after her show, as they got ready for bed. As soon as Trucy was in her room with the door closed, Phoenix went looking through a box of her props, found a length of red cloth left over from a special trick she'd been doing for the Christmas season, and draped it over the front of the piano.

It looked rather attractive against the black finish.

...He'd just leave it there for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

Zak Gramarye or Valant Gramarye. Those were the two most likely suspects. Zak more so, given that Trucy was his daughter - perhaps, even while on the run, he wanted to keep an eye on her, watch her grow up... Maybe that was all the camera meant.

But that would have meant someone else placed the gun. Phoenix could really only assume that at least one person meant himself or Trucy harm, possibly two. And possibly they meant harm to Kristoph as well, but what motive would Zak or Valant have for watching Kristoph? Or maybe they'd intended that camera for Klavier - that would make more sense for several reasons. Klavier was the musician, after all, and how would they know he'd moved out and wouldn't be playing that piano anymore? Or it could be someone completely unrelated to this case, maybe someone related to another case that Klavier had prosecuted more recently. There were too many possibilities to name them all.

Despite all the varying possibilities, Phoenix's mind kept returning to the one that seemed the most far-fetched - the one he least wanted to believe.

He tried to ignore it. After all, when Kristoph had stopped by the next morning, after Trucy had been sent off to school, he hadn't commented on the piano's unusual decoration. Even Trucy had thought her daddy was a little weird. If Kristoph had put the camera there, then wouldn't he have asked about the red cloth that was now covering it? But he didn't say a word about it, only that he'd come by because he was feeling a bit lonely on a slow day at the office, and then - seeing as they were alone for the time being - Phoenix tried his hardest to forget all about his suspicions, and Kristoph unwittingly helped. ...Even while he was gripping the arm of the couch, holding on for dear life, Phoenix couldn't quite put it out of his mind.

Making matters worse, Phoenix was wondering if he should tell Kristoph that someone might have been trying to spy on either him or Klavier. What if the culprit had placed cameras elsewhere? He couldn't keep this information to himself... But neither was he comfortable with telling Kristoph, regardless of how many times he told himself that it was ridiculous to suspect him. He was already offering Kristoph free access to his life, giving him anything that was his to give. Why would Kristoph spy on him?

Maybe it was because he had Trucy to think about, rather than just himself, but Phoenix had to be sure. After considering over the weekend (during which Kristoph was conspicuously absent for some reason), Phoenix called Gumshoe from the bus stop after seeing Trucy off to school - he didn't want to have any conversations with the police in his apartment just yet - and asked if he still had that old bug sweeper.

It wouldn't tell him who was responsible, Phoenix admitted as he headed home. But if there were other bugs present, they would be clues, and he would be sure that it was either himself or Trucy that the mystery person was spying on. If there was nothing, he'd have a look through the Gavin manor, and see if there was any further evidence that someone was after Kristoph or Klavier. And if there was, _then_ he would tell Kristoph.

Mindful of who might be watching and where they could be watching from, Phoenix held the device before him, peering at it and fiddling with it as if it were a handheld video game as he meandered through the office-turned-apartment. Beeped a lot at the television - yeah, that was kind of obvious. On second thought, he turned the television on and tuned it to a game show, to camouflage the device's beeping a little for anyone listening in. The telephone made it beep too, of course, and Phoenix was then reminded that the phone there had been tapped at least once before. Maybe he should look it over carefully again when he was done. And unsurprisingly, it beeped at the piano.

Okay, so the device was still working. Now, Phoenix thought, he'd look for something he _didn't_ already know about. The bookshelf by the door to what was now the kitchen, that caused a beep, and Phoenix peered at it carefully as he moved the device around to pinpoint the location. One of Mia's old law books, on a shelf well below eye level; he narrowed it down to 'The Art of Cross-Examination', and didn't have to lean down to look closely to observe that the O in 'Cross' was cut out. Whoever put a camera there obviously knew him well enough to know he never actually read those books... Neither Gramarye would know that. Though he admitted that with him having lost his badge, someone might have made an educated guess that he wouldn't be reading that book _again_. It meant nothing. Moving on.

There wasn't anything unexpected in or on his desk for it to react to (except the TV remote - how'd that end up in the drawer with the pens?), or in the file cabinets... That old movie poster of Mia's made the device beep, though, which startled him enough that he jumped. But how could anyone hide something inside a poster, Phoenix wondered as he glanced up to look it over. ...There, just above the frame. There was a little round hole that could have passed as someone having pounded a nail in just a little too far up, and the faintest trace of the area surrounding it having been patched over. Someone had done actual construction work to cover this one up. And who had contracted construction work recently, most of it done while he was shooed out of his own office?

...Well, it could have been one of the carpenters doing it on their own.

...A rogue carpenter who wanted to spy on a poker-playing pianist. Right.

Phoenix considered stopping there. He didn't want to make himself even more suspicious than he already was - this was _crazy_. But there was still one thing that worried him, that made him feel vaguely ill to think about, and he turned down the short hall and into Trucy's room.

Every time the device beeped, he nearly had a heart attack, but time and time again it turned out to be nothing. A voice recorder hidden under her mattress - made significantly less suspicious due to the white rabbit stickers all over it. A rather odd-looking thing under her bed that might have been a camera, but which seemed to be aiming straight at the bottom of the bed's frame... and which projected glittering stars and planets and the word "ALAKAZAM!" onto the ceiling when he pulled it out and turned it on. A stuffed bear set it off, which brought back some uncomfortable memories, but when he picked it up, the bear started talking about what good friends they were going to be. ...Right, she'd picked that one out herself, and he'd heard it say the same things over and over for a week afterwards. He went over the room again, every inch, but nothing unexpected turned up. Well, nothing more unexpected than you might expect when you lived with an aspiring magician - he was going to have to have a little talk with her about the fake arm sticking out from beneath her dresser.

Phoenix let out a deep, relieved breath as he closed the door to Trucy's room. So no one was spying specifically on his daughter, meaning he didn't have to worry about the reason. Thank goodness. Of course, that meant they were probably spying on _him_. He considered it, and decided it was still a relief, even as he headed into his own bedroom to give it a once-over.

His room still wasn't actually furnished like a bedroom - he was sleeping on the leather sofa that had been occupying one wall of the reception, and the front desk was now pushed against the wall between his room and Trucy's. That just meant there was less there to search, he supposed, walking back and forth along the four walls, holding the device at different heights and keeping his eye out for small holes.

There was a little beeping in one corner, opposite the couch he slept on, each time he made a sweep. The corner was bare, though - no furniture, and Phoenix didn't see anything at all amiss in the walls - and it wasn't as loud or persistent as it had been when it found the other bugs. Frowning, Phoenix stopped and peered suspiciously at the device. Maybe it was malfunctioning now, he thought, holding it up to get a better look.

The device went haywire once it was pointed upwards, and Phoenix glanced up. ...Interesting - he was sure he would have noticed that little hole in the pitted plaster ceiling. So would the construction workers. And unlike him, they would have fixed it.

He'd stopped being scared when he confirmed that Trucy's room was safe. Now, as he casually stepped out into the hallway, he just felt _angry_.

All right, he told himself as he switched the thing off and flopped down on the office couch - he had to calm down and figure out what to do. It was just... if he stopped being angry, then he'd be really, really upset about what this evidence pointed to. Because what it pointed to...

He didn't want to believe it. It didn't make any sense - he had no reason to do this. He had a key. He'd already seen Phoenix in every conceivable state he could imagine; morbidly depressed, furious, terrified, drunk and unconscious... in the midst of orgasm... Why would Kristoph need to see more? Why wouldn't he just ask?

But there was no denying that Kristoph had had more than enough opportunity to put everything in place. The way that some of the cameras were placed meant that it _had_ to have been done during the construction process, or at the very least, exposed during that time. And ever since the work was finished, Kristoph hadn't been contacting him as regularly as he used to.

This had to be some kind of mistake, Phoenix told himself. If he was presenting this theory in court, Miles would expose each tiny hole and use them to rip it to shreds.

...He'd always loved that he could count on Miles for that, frustrating as it was.

Miles was gone. It was up to him to either expose the error or expose the truth - and there was one surefire way that Phoenix could think of to do that. Not that it would have counted as evidence in a court of law.

He didn't see Kristoph again for a couple of days, however. During that time, he was all too aware that _someone's_ eyes were on him and Trucy anytime they were at home... but he had an idea of something he could do about that.

His next night off, when he and Trucy got home from the bus stop, Trucy asked as usual what they were going to do for the afternoon, and Phoenix placed his hands on his hips, looking around the office. Or living room, or whatever it was now. "You know, Trucy... I'm thinking we need to reorganize our space a little better, now that we have more rooms."

"You think so?" Trucy was curious. "Like how?"

"Well, this room looks so much like Mia's office used to, back when she was my boss. And that was okay when I was a lawyer... But this isn't a law firm anymore. It's our home - yours and mine."

"It's a talent agency!" Trucy insisted, with a little pout.

"Yeah, that too. But it's still not a law firm," Phoenix reminded her. "Don't you think we should make it look a little more like the two of us?"

Trucy pondered this. "You mean, make a big blue hat for the furniture?"

"Uh, no."

"I bet I could!" she told him excitedly. "Just like yours! Except the desk's hat would say 'desk', and the chair's hat would say 'chair', and-"

"No, really, that's okay. I like the fact nothing else has a hat like mine. What I meant," Phoenix added quickly, before she could suggest something else, "was that we should decorate with our own things... put some of Mia's old things away. I kind of hate to do it," he admitted, "but she's been gone a long time. And no matter what happens to her belongings, or her office, she's always going to be just the same in my heart."

"Aww..." Trucy smiled. "I wish I could have met her, Daddy. I bet she'd have made a good mommy."

...Not quite what Phoenix meant, but he supposed it was all right to let Trucy think that way for the time being. "So... let's start over here, with this poster," he suggested, crossing the room to take hold of the frame, and lift it up off the wall.

"Are you ever going to show me that movie?"

"...When you're a little older." If even _he_ had cried at it, then she'd probably bawl her eyes out. "Looks like someone hammered a nail in wrong here... So if we hammer in another nail right above it, we can cover up that little hole... And remember that portrait that Mr. Gavin found you for Christmas? Let's hang that up there instead, okay? Just a little higher, and then we can put the piano right underneath it..."

Once they'd moved Charley to the other corner and rearranged the larger furniture a little, making it look more like a living room than an office, the next order of business was organizing the bookshelves. Surely they didn't need so many law books right there, close at hand, if there were no lawyers coming there anymore - so he could clear off a couple of shelves and make room for Trucy's magic books, which were currently in stacks on her bedroom floor. The books he removed were boxed up, and the box was put in the corner of his own bedroom until he could figure out a better place.

A few of Trucy's larger props were moved out into the living room as well, to make it clear that a magician lived there, and then Phoenix stood back, folding his arms with a satisfied nod. "I think it looks a lot more like our home now - don't you?"

"...It kind of looks more messy to me," Trucy admitted, but then she looked up at him and grinned. "But that's my Daddy!" Phoenix decided that was good enough for him.

He was so satisfied with his plan's execution that he kind of wanted to smirk up at the hidden camera in his ceiling when he went to bed that night. _...Take **that**._

All his misgivings came back the following day, however, when a knock came on the door just as he was about to leave for the club. ...Very interesting, that Kristoph should stop by - the very next day after he'd foiled the cameras. Phoenix really wished his life would stop being so interesting for awhile.

Kristoph merely looked around, raising an eyebrow, as he stepped inside. "My, things have changed in here. Planning to redecorate?"

"Actually, this sort of _is_ the redecoration," Phoenix told him. "What do you think?"

"...It's quite _lived-in_," Kristoph mused.

"Yes, but do you like it?" Phoenix's fingers, stuck in the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing, touched a smooth, rounded shape. Even though he didn't have to touch it for it to work, its presence was comforting.

"I suppose, if it works for you and Trucy."

There was a clanking sound, which Phoenix knew by now only he could hear, and then, just as he suspected - psyche-locks. Two of them.

Two psyche-locks was a bit much for a little white lie... but it was possible Kristoph just really, really hated the arrangement. No sense in pursuing that. "You'll notice that we hung up that picture of Trucy's grandfather," Phoenix pointed out, gesturing to it. "It conveniently covered up the holes in the wall from the poster frame that used to be there."

"A wise move," Kristoph conceded with a nod.

Phoenix had been considering it for the last few days - how should he handle it when the time came? He thought he knew, and now he even had a decent segue. "It had to be a little higher anyway, for the piano to fit underneath it. ...And speaking of the piano, Kristoph - how long ago was that key I asked about before lost? Would it be somewhere in your manor?"

"Hmm... it might be," Kristoph admitted, "but Klavier was very young at the time - it was many years ago. I looked again briefly before bringing the piano here, but it was nowhere to be found."

_Five_ psyche-locks.

That was enough answer for Phoenix, and he changed the subject to something else. How was work today? Dull, apparently, and Kristoph was in the mood for a little amusement on his lunch break... it had been awhile since he'd stopped by, after all.

Due to the continuing lack of a bed on Phoenix's part, they found themselves in the bathroom, in the shower, where Kristoph proceeded to fuck him up against the wall, murmuring in the ear that wasn't pressed flat against the tile. Just a quick one, since Phoenix had to get to work, and Kristoph needed to return. ...For once, Phoenix just wanted it to be over with. But still, somehow, he managed to enjoy it.

...He kind of hated himself for that.


	10. Chapter 10

At least Trucy was now safe from any prying eyes, Phoenix told himself. No matter who the cameras had belonged to, he hadn't wanted them watching her. The camera in his bedroom... He considered finding a way to cover it up - maybe move a really tall shelf into the corner, maybe plaster over it. But then again, if he covered up every hidden camera in the place, that would make it too obvious that he knew what was going on. He considered his bedroom privacy an acceptable casualty.

Especially if it really was Kristoph watching him. Kristoph had already seen anything that might happen in his bedroom anyway. In fact, Phoenix was slightly tempted to _really_ give him something to watch.

He was angry. He knew he _should_ be scared, with the implications that were now raised about all the strange things that had been happening in his life in the last year, but he just couldn't manage it. No one could fuck his life up more than it already _had_ been, right?

It was a measure of how angry he was that he was letting four-letter words creep into his inner monologue.

Gumshoe had been busy (for real, for a change) with an investigation when Phoenix had called about the bug sweeper, and hadn't been able to offer much other than the sweeper itself and an encouraging "Good luck, pal". Phoenix needed him, though, for the next part of his plan. Now that a few days had gone by and he had some new observations, he tried again.

"Hey, pal - get any results?" Gumshoe greeted him.

"Yeah... some kind of surprising ones, at that," Phoenix told him. "There are at least three other cameras hidden in my apartment - two of them actually embedded in the walls and the ceiling."

"No kidding?" Gumshoe sounded wary. "And you're talking about it on the phone with the police?"

"...I'm calling from a few blocks away," Phoenix explained. "Listen - I was able to remove the camera that _wasn't_ impossible to move without notice. Are you still busy with the murder investigation? Or stuck witnessing at the courthouse or anything?"

"Naw, it was all tied up yesterday evening - it's been ruled a suicide, so there won't be a trial. Big waste of my time, pal."

"Hmm... so you might have time to run a check on some prints, if I can get them?"

"Sure thing! Should I come pick it up?"

...Hadn't Gumshoe just warned him not to even talk to an officer on the phone in the apartment? "Uhm, no. Actually, I thought I'd bring it down to the precinct for you."

"Sounds like a plan."

Phoenix paused. "Seriously, Gumshoe... I really appreciate you helping me out like this. Especially since it's not officially police business."

"Don't worry about it," Gumshoe assured him. "It's like this, okay? I sort of owe you one, since I kind of messed up things between you and Mr. Edgeworth. And even if he didn't say so last time we talked, I bet he'd still want me looking out for you. Besides, investigating cases with you was always pretty interesting."

Apparently Gumshoe had forgotten that they used to be on opposite sides, Phoenix observed. ...Or maybe it was wishful thinking. "Yeah... likewise," he replied honestly. He really _did_ miss those days. "So I'll see you in about an hour, okay?"

"Yup! You know where to find me."

Phoenix had been considering, ever since he removed that book from the shelf, how to best transport and test the camera without letting it be obvious that it had been discovered, and he thought he had an answer. Back at the apartment, he stuffed a length of thin black cloth in his front pocket (Trucy's hobby was coming in very handy), grabbed the box that he'd put all those extra books in, and started sorting them by subject on the bedroom floor. Or at least stacking them in such a way that it looked like he was sorting them - it was all for show, after all. He left 'The Art of Cross-Examination' right on top when he repacked the box, then picked it up to carry it downstairs. ...His plan hadn't accounted for how heavy a box full of books was, and he decided he was going to take the bus.

Not that it mattered. Either way, once he was en route, he opened the box again and slipped the black cloth over the books, so that the camera would see nothing but darkness as he grasped the front cover through the remainder of the black cloth - his own fingerprints were already on the book, but there was no need to muddy the results further - and flipped it open. Sure enough, the center of the pages had been cut out, and inside was a little cylindrical camera with a red glowing LED and what he assumed to be a transmitter, both attached to a small battery pack. Fortunately, this wasn't exactly rocket science; Phoenix just wrapped a corner of the cloth around the cord leading from the camera to the transmitter, and yanked it out. The red LED went dead - and then for good measure, he removed the batteries, leaving them loose in the cavity of the hollow book. That was that.

He shouldn't have been surprised when his cell phone rang shortly after he'd gotten off the bus, making him set down the box to answer it. "Hey, Kristoph."

"Good morning, Phoenix. Are you still at home?"

He was pretty sure that Kristoph knew damn well he wasn't at home. "Nope - I had some errands to run this morning. What's up?"

"Another slow day... I was thinking I might stop by." A pause. "Will your errands take long?"

"Hard to say," Phoenix admitted. "I've got a box of Mia's old law books that I was going to see about getting rid of, so it depends whether or not the pawn shop wants to do any negotiating."

"I see..."

Kristoph sounded so casual, Phoenix wanted to grind his teeth. "I thought I might just do some wandering around downtown, too," he added. "It's been awhile since I had some time to myself."

"You're not in the mood for another lunchtime rendezvous, then?"

Phoenix made himself chuckle. "It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, Kristoph. Am I really that irresistable? I'm sure you can skip a day - you've skipped an awful lot recently, in fact."

"Then I might be excused for wanting to make up for lost time."

Why did he have to be so _smooth_ about this? Phoenix almost could believe that all of this was no more than coincidence. "Nah, sorry - I'm already downtown. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"Perhaps. We'll see how busy I am, here at the office."

Yeah, whatever. "Sounds good," Phoenix told him, trying to sound cheerful. "If you're too busy, though, I'll understand." Oh yes - he would understand, all right.

The black cloth was still partially wrapped around the book when Phoenix pulled it out of the box in the relative privacy of a little cubicle - it was probably best not to let _Gumshoe_ get more fingerprints on anything either. "It's just like I figured," he said, lifting up the cover to show off the little camera. "Nothing's transmitting now, since I unplugged it and took out the batteries, so we don't need to worry about what the person on the other end might be seeing."

"Good call," Gumshoe muttered, looking over the device. "Boy, someone really is out to get you, if they did all this. Guess you want me to check for the Gramaryes again?"

Phoenix hesitated. He'd actually almost forgotten that they were a _possibility_, let alone the prime suspects, as far as Gumshoe knew. "Yeah, check for the Gramaryes. But..." He didn't want to have to say it, but he did. "...Check for Kristoph Gavin too."

"Mr. Gavin?!" Gumshoe exclaimed. "But aren't you and he, uh, you know..."

"Yes," Phoenix said flatly. "Check it anyway."

"...Whatever you say," Gumshoe agreed, though still visibly puzzled. "Want to wait here, or should I call you when I have results?"

"Call me - I've got some other things to attend to in the neighborhood, though, so if I finish before you do, I'll come on back."

Actually, Phoenix only had one other thing to attend to. "Sorry, Mia," he murmured, glancing up to the sky warily as he approached the used bookstore on the next block. "I know these were probably expensive... but think of it this way - maybe it'll help some poor kid who wants to be a lawyer someday."

That was something Mia would approve of, he was sure. And hey - maybe someday, if he found out who it was that forged that evidence and blamed it on him, he'd get his badge back. And maybe then he'd take on some broke law student with nowhere else to go, like she'd done for him, and start growing the firm just like she'd wanted. Maybe it would even be the same kid who bought some of these books.

It was a wistful, pleasant sort of thought, which left Phoenix with no desire to try to negotiate a better price - the bookstore owner seemed to be giving him a fair deal anyway. He was nearly in a good mood again, especially after he'd gone to muse on thoughts of the future in the park near the precinct. A little overcast, but a nice enough day to sit outside and daydream.

His good mood vanished when his cell phone rang - it was Gumshoe. "Hello?"

"Hey, pal..."

Gumshoe sounded a little odd. "Something wrong?"

"Well, uh... we got some good prints, someone who wasn't you this time... and then we got some results," Gumshoe mumbled.

Phoenix thought he sounded uncertain. He could guess why, since he'd already had a pretty good idea of what they'd reveal. "They were Kristoph's, weren't they?" he sighed.

"Huh? No - Mr. Gavin's fingerprints weren't anywhere on the thing. Or even on the book."

"...Really?" Phoenix was puzzled. Gumshoe wouldn't be so weird if it was anyone else under suspicion, so... "Whose were they, then?"

"Does the name Rick Taylor mean anything to you?"

Phoenix thought about this for a moment. "I don't think I've ever heard that name before, no. Should it mean something to me?"

"I sure hope not, pal. That's the guy whose death wasted three days' worth of my time this week."

"Wha..." Phoenix didn't even know what this was supposed to mean. "But... What you're saying is, the guy who put these cameras in my apartment is _dead?_"

"Yeah. And it's a good thing we didn't get these results before the guy turned up dead - 'cause if I told you this guy was responsible for bugging your apartment, and _then_ he turned up dead? You'd be suspect number one."

"Huh...? I thought you said it was ruled a suicide, not a murder."

"It was only ruled a suicide because we can't figure out how anyone else would've done it," Gumshoe admitted. "The only possible suspect was his girlfriend, and she was the one who called the police when she found the body. Last night we verified her alibi, and that left us with nothing."

This was just getting too weird. "So this guy I've never heard of planted cameras in my apartment," Phoenix repeated, "and then he killed himself?"

"Looks like it. But maybe it wasn't him that put it in the apartment, now that I'm thinking about it..."

"What do you mean?"

"How about you come back to the station?" Gumshoe suggested. "I'll tell you some more, show you some pictures, see if it'll jog your memory."

"I guess... But Gumshoe?"

"Yeah, pal?"

"...You're _not_ making me suspect number one now, are you?" With Gumshoe, you could never be too careful.

* * *

The man in the picture Gumshoe showed him when he got to the station looked like he may have been vaguely familiar. Maybe Phoenix had seen him _once_, some time ago. And though he didn't remember where, he had a feeling that he might know anyway. "What did he do?"

"You mean, that we have his prints on record? Or what did he do for a living?"

Phoenix shrugged. "A little of both, I guess."

"Let's see... he was basically one of those guys who led sort of a double life," Gumshoe began. "Worked part time at an appliance shop, his boss said he could fix about just about anything people brought in. He wasn't just good at _fixing_ things, either - he was really good at, well... making things do stuff they weren't intended to do."

"Huh?"

"He'd mess with the parts, make things work even when they should have been dead, give them a different function. And that was just the stuff he was doing at his day job - he was really making money doing things like this on a larger scale on the downlow, in the private sector. He'd rig up all kinds of things for whoever had money, and didn't care what they were using them for. There was this arson case a couple years ago... a modified lighter was the source, and we traced some of the parts back to him. So we hauled him in, got his prints, questioned him, found all the components and a whole lot more at his apartment... but he wasn't the one who started the fire. He'd just modified the lighter to work on a remote, at a client's request, and after he got his payment, he didn't think about it again. How was he supposed to know someone was going to use it to set a building on fire, right? And it wasn't like he stole any of the parts, or was using something illegal to make the thing - just standard components. So he wasn't charged with anything in the end, but he was given a warning about the kind of jobs he accepted. Not that he paid any attention, judging from what we found at his place when we arrived this last weekend."

"...I see." Well then, the connection seemed pretty obvious. "So most likely, someone contracted him to find subtle ways to hide a bunch of little cameras in my apartment. ...He might even have been there at some point while the construction was going on, but I was hardly ever there while they were working. Too dusty."

"So it could have been one of the workmen?" Gumshoe pondered. "Or someone disguised as a workman?"

Phoenix didn't reply. It was still _possible_ that it was someone else, but...

"...What's up, pal? You're all quiet suddenly."

"There's no way to trace who contracted these cameras now that he's dead, is there?"

"Probably not," Gumshoe admitted. "He was pretty good at covering his tracks, too. There were invoices, but all the clients were listed by code words, with no contact info. Probably kept it all in his head."

So basically, Phoenix had to go with the most logical assumption. It was just... "No matter how sure I might be about who did this... I can't _prove_ it."

"Hey, no giving up yet," Gumshoe told him. "We can get more info - maybe if we get those other cameras out of your place-"

Phoenix shook his head. There was one other thing. "How did Taylor die?"

"Eh, it was poison. Atroquinine - even a tiny amount will kill someone within minutes. Looks like he took just enough to do the job, because there wasn't any trace of the stuff throughout the rest of his apartment."

"And you ruled out someone else having done the job, and removing any evidence?" Phoenix continued.

"Only his prints and his girlfriend's were on either side of the doorknob - and since they were there, and not smudged, we can be pretty sure no one else came in or out. Unless they used the window, but probably not from the eighth floor."

"But you thought it was a murder at first?"

"Well, yeah - who kills themselves with atroquinine?" Gumshoe offered a shrug. "The guy had plenty of cheap over-the-counter painkillers and stuff in his bathroom cabinet, and atroquinine doesn't exactly pop up all over the place. And his girlfriend said he hadn't shown any signs of depression. Considering she was our only suspect if he _had_ been murdered, she must've really meant it."

"You investigated the case..." Phoenix leaned forward on the desk, fixing his eyes on Gumshoe seriously. "In your honest opinion - do you _really_ think Rick Taylor killed himself?"

Gumshoe leaned back warily, scratching his head. "What is this, pal - a cross-examination?"

...Oh yeah - not a lawyer anymore. Phoenix settled back. "Sorry. But do you?"

Gumshoe reluctantly shook his head. "Something about it all seems really off. We just can't find any evidence it was anything _other_ than suicide, or anyone else to suspect, so..."

His voice trailed off, and Phoenix nodded. He had been getting a really bad feeling about this whole thing, and now he was sure he was justified. "So let's get this straight now, where we're at," he stated. "Someone wanted cameras placed in my apartment. They contracted Taylor to do it. His prints are on the camera." Gumshoe nodded - so far so good. "And now, he's dead. Probably the only person who could have told us who asked for the cameras - and he's dead via poisoning."

"Yeah... that's pretty much exactly what I was thinking," Gumshoe agreed, though he didn't look at all happy about it. "But you know... he looked like he kept himself pretty busy. Even if it _was_ somehow a client of his that did him in, we couldn't know which one. His invoices indicated he'd just ordered a whole bunch of those little cameras - like a dozen of 'em. And they must've been popular, because we didn't find a single one in the place."

That was a disconcerting thought. "...So there could be more in my apartment?" It was possible, Phoenix thought, maybe if they were camouflaged by something else electronic... In the TV, in the phone...

"Nah, I don't think they were all aimed at you," Gumshoe assured him. But then, a second later, he looked uncertain.

"...What?" Phoenix asked, when he didn't explain.

"Huh?"

"What was that look for?"

"Oh, I was just thinking... I might have seen someone else using one of those recently, even. Well... not _too_ recently now, I guess."

"Heh. Matt Engarde?" Phoenix assumed. "That was my first thought."

"No, more recent than that. And Engarde's still locked up good and tight, in case you were wondering. That's not likely to change." Gumshoe leaned back in his desk chair, resting his hands behind his head, swivelling idly. "I wonder if it was a camera like that that took those pictures of you and Mr. Gavin. I was wondering why you'd ask about Mr. Gavin's prints - but maybe whoever's watching you is watching him too..."

Phoenix had to wonder if it was bad of him to be relieved by the idea that both he and Kristoph were in danger from someone who was willing to kill to cover up their activities, if it meant that Kristoph wasn't spying on him for some unknown reason and possibly guilty of murder. He wondered if he was an idiot for hoping it was even possible. "You really think that - wait a second," Phoenix interrupted himself, backpedaling as the earlier part of Gumshoe's statement registered. "_What_ pictures of me and Gavin?"

"The, uh, ones I sent to Mr. Edgeworth." Gumshoe looked rather uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Probably doesn't give us any clues, though - since you were in 'em too."

"Okay, hold on," Phoenix began, sitting up straighter. This didn't make any sense at all. "He said _you_ were watching me on his behalf. Wasn't it you who took the pictures?"

"I took some, yeah," Gumshoe explained, looking even more uncomfortable. "I saw the two of you in the park that one afternoon, and figured he'd like to know at least you had someone to help you through everything, right? So I took a couple pictures of the two of you holding hands and sitting together and stuff. But not, you know... _those_ pictures."

"What pictures?"

"The ones with, well, you and him, uh..." Gumshoe mumbled, and finally shrugged helplessly. "Aw, pal... how am I supposed to say it? Especially here at work..."

Phoenix was pretty sure he got the idea. "...There were pictures of Kristoph and I having _sex_?"

Gumshoe's face was bright red. "To put it, uh, simply..."

Incredulity trumped embarrassment by far, in Phoenix's case. "And you didn't take them?"

"No way!" Gumshoe exclaimed, then lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing around. "I wouldn't want to stick around and watch something like that! Anybody gets up to anything on my watch, especially two _guys_ \- nope, not my business, they can have their privacy-"

"Then where did you get them?" Phoenix asked, lowering his voice as well.

"By email. Got 'em as an attachment from some address I'd never seen before, the message said Mr. Edgeworth would like to see them... And since I was sending him an email with some attachments anyway..."

Phoenix had nearly stopped listening by this time, his mind occupied instead with trying to remember what had happened when. It was months ago now, and his memory was a little foggy, but he thought he remembered something that made this even more absurd. "...I could have sworn Edgeworth mentioned seeing incriminating pictures of Kristoph and I _before_ we did anything heavier than kissing." There had to be an explanation, though. "Did you send him more than one batch of pictures?"

Gumshoe shook his head. "Just sent the one message with pictures. And that was when Mr. Edgeworth told me I wasn't needed anymore..."

Well, it was possible Phoenix was just confused about the order of things... And there was another explanation, too. "Can I see those pictures you sent him?"

"I don't have 'em anymore," Gumshoe said with an apologetic shrug. "Didn't want to keep something like that on my computer, you know - so I just attached the files to the email I sent Mr. Edgeworth, and sent it off."

Phoenix blinked. "...Gumshoe... You do know that when you attach a file to an email, it only attaches a _copy_ of the file and keeps the original file on your hard drive... right?"

Gumshoe just stared at him blankly. "...Serious?"

"It's not like a normal photograph, where it can be in only one place at a time," Phoenix explained. "If you never actually _deleted_ those pictures, they're still on your computer."

"Oh, uh..." Gumshoe laughed sheepishly. "I'm not so good with computers, pal. I guess that's why all my memory keeps getting filled up so fast, huh?"

Gumshoe's ignorance aside... "...So can I have a look?"

"Well, I _did_ delete the email they were attached to..."

Phoenix's heart sank. So much for that idea. ...Unless... "Uhm, did you actually empty your email client's trash folder afterwards?"

Another blank stare from Gumshoe. "You have to do that?"

* * *

It was easier, Phoenix decided, to just ask if he could have a look at Gumshoe's computer. Despite Gumshoe's concerns about there being 'top secret police business' in his email folders, all Phoenix saw in the trash folder was spam and a bunch of notifications about department picnics, barbecues, awards ceremonies... and the occasional notice of a pay cut.

It was astonishing how much junk had accumulated, he thought at first as he scrolled back over the subject lines, but he supposed over six months of email added up. He couldn't really recall what day it was that he'd spoken to Miles last - sometime in early July, or maybe late June...

At the same time he was scanning the email subjects for anything out of place, he was thinking back on how things had happened. He was almost positive he remembered - he'd had that almost-breakup conversation with Miles, Kristoph had invited him over for the first time after that, and he'd somehow gotten drunk enough to stupidly hit on Kristoph and then passed out (right, he hardly ate and then he cut his finger and was bleeding). The next day they'd gone to the park for the first time, held hands a little, Kristoph had kissed him briefly. His last phone call with Miles had been after that, because Miles mentioned Gumshoe overhearing their conversation in the park (and Phoenix didn't like thinking about that, it still made his heart hurt). But... how long after that first night at Kristoph's was it when he called Miles? Because Phoenix thought he'd slept with Kristoph the week after. But he thought that came _after_ he'd called Miles...

But then again, someone had already messed up his life by forging things. Maybe someone had forged pictures of the two of them as well.

"That's the one," Gumshoe said abruptly, dragging Phoenix out of his confusing thoughts as he pointed at the screen. "Right there."

Phoenix clicked the subject line, and looked over the header. One of those email addresses that looked like someone just bashed their fingers against the keyboard at random, from a free public provider. No clue as to the sender's identity there, so he scrolled down.

_Please pass these files along to Miles Edgeworth. They should clarify the situation for him._

And of course Gumshoe wouldn't know better than to click on random attached files from someone he didn't know, Phoenix thought in exasperation. Even knowing what they contained - _especially_ knowing what they contained - he glanced around for a moment, making sure no one but himself and Gumshoe were near the little cubicle before he clicked the first attachment.

...That certainly looked like Kristoph's hair, at least, and Kristoph's bedroom. It was hard to tell if the person below Kristoph, lying sprawled across the bed, was him, seeing as the person who had Kristoph's hair was on top of him, and the picture seemed to have been taken through the window at the foot of the bed. Actually, it kind of looked like a still from a video, though there was no timestamp like there might have been on a surveillance video. The person in that picture _did_ have on pants that looked like a pair Phoenix owned. And nothing else. Kristoph, on the other hand, seemed to still be mostly dressed, wearing a shirt and pants.

The second shot was zoomed in, and Phoenix could very clearly see his own face beyond the back of Kristoph's head, slightly slackjawed, eyes closed; if it was someone impersonating him, they were sure doing a better job than Furio Tigre had. It was a disturbing sort of thing to see - and to realize that other people had seen - but he tried his best to ignore that and looked over the rest of the picture. The back of Kristoph's head was visible, though what precisely it was doing was unclear. Unless, of course, you knew what that look on Phoenix's face meant, in which case their relative positions made it fairly obvious. Phoenix glanced up at Gumshoe, and found the detective's head turned away, looking grim and very uncomfortable as he stood next to the computer, his thick frame mostly blocking the monitor from the rest of the room. At least he was keeping the area secure, more or less.

The third shot was more or less the same angle, same zoom, though Phoenix's head was tilted back. The fingers of his left hand were entwined in Kristoph's hair, curled around the back of his neck, and Kristoph was on his elbows, holding Phoenix's wrist. If it hadn't been obvious what was going on before... Phoenix couldn't help but be a little turned on - he remembered this, and it had been amazing. He tried to put it aside as he clicked on to the next image.

The fourth was somewhat less zoomed, showing more of the scene. The way Kristoph was positioned at the moment made it possible to see that Phoenix's pants were pulled down past his hips, though the placement of Kristoph's head kept it from being too revealing. Phoenix bit his lip. Maybe he should have looked at these alone...

He wasn't looking at them to get off, he reminded himself. This was an investigation. And what he was really trying to do was figure out if they were authentic. It seemed like there was no reason they wouldn't be - he remembered Kristoph doing that to him, early in their relationship. It was just that the timing seemed wrong... Or maybe he was remembering wrong... The date on the email didn't help, since he couldn't remember exact dates anyway.

"Hey, Gumshoe?" he asked, glancing up from where he was seated. Gumshoe glanced down, but very carefully. "Can I forward a copy of this to my office? So I can look these over more carefully?"

"Good idea," Gumshoe said with a nod, and then a slight grimace. "And after you've done that, can you, uh, maybe make sure they're not on my computer anymore?"

Phoenix considered just emptying the whole trash folder for Gumshoe when he was through, but he wasn't entirely sure there wasn't some important document that Gumshoe had put there by accident. He'd been doing okay bumbling along on his own, Phoenix supposed... He could probably keep on doing so. Which also meant that Phoenix wasn't going to tell him about his suspicions. Not just yet. It was still possible that he'd just somehow leapt to the wrong conclusion, and it was someone out to get both himself _and_ Kristoph.

Later that night, after a shift at the Borscht Bowl that seemed to drag on _forever_ and being entirely distracted during Trucy's show, Phoenix finally got a chance to open the files on his own computer, in a graphics editing program (which was probably a good ten years out of date; that was why he had absolutely no guilt over having pirated it), where he could change the brightness and contrast, zoom in and out, check for anything that seemed off.

He didn't know why he was bothering. He remembered this happening. There was nothing but a possibly faulty memory, addled by frustration and grief, to indicate that they might be a forgery. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for as evidence that it was, and it didn't help that he kept getting distracted by the subject of the photographs.

Finally he gave up, resting his chin in one hand as he leaned on the desk, staring aimlessly at the monitor. Assuming the photos were real, then what did it mean? Maybe someone _was_ spying on both of them. And that someone had contacted Gumshoe, suggested he forward the pictures to Miles... Maybe someone who was particularly interested in making sure his relationship with Miles went down in flames. There were certainly enough people who lusted after the guy... but Phoenix didn't think any of them would go this far. Well, maybe Oldbag... well, maybe not.

But whoever had planted a camera to watch Kristoph's bedroom - and he wouldn't get specific about who he thought that was just yet - had also planted one in his bedroom, and in the rest of his office, which seemed to indicate there was more to it than that. And if they were also the one who switched out Trucy's gun, and killed Rick Taylor, they were dangerous. Following the logic of killing Taylor... this was a person who was willing to enlist help for tasks they couldn't accomplish themselves, but who would turn on that help once they were done, to ensure their silence. So it was also someone who might hire a forger... But then again, Drew Misham was still alive, months later. Maybe it was a different person after all.

While Phoenix was mulling this over, his eyes lingered on the third picture, with his hand curling around the back of Kristoph's neck. He couldn't really help it - it was a pleasant thing for his eyes to linger on, if they were going to be lingering around somewhere.

He suddenly realized that there seemed to be something in that picture that shouldn't have been there, and straightened up to reach for the mouse, to zoom in further.

The photograph was a little bit grainy, sure, but it looked like there was something wrapped around Phoenix's index finger - a slightly paler line where something stood out from his skin. Zooming in made it clear that it wasn't just a little errant static tricking the eyes, or a lock of Kristoph's hair, but a bandage around the finger. Now that he was zoomed in a little, he could even see the dark stain that had spread beneath the surface of the bandage.

Which he'd acquired on the first night he'd stayed over, and had healed by the next weekend.

Which had allegedly been a factor in why he'd passed out.

Which was why he and Kristoph hadn't slept together that night, except...

Phoenix unconsciously drew back a little, his hand going to his mouth.


	11. Chapter 11

Over the next few days, Phoenix tried to keep himself thinking logically about the pictures and what they meant. Emotional reactions would only make things complicated. And it wasn't as if Kristoph had, well, actually _raped_ him or anything - he _would_ have slept with Kristoph that night. He just hadn't been given the chance to say so, because Kristoph had drugged him. Maybe. It was _possible_ that it had just been his feeble emotional and physical state that had made him pass out after a single glass of wine.

But either way, he couldn't explain away the fact that Kristoph _had_ taken advantage of him while he was unconscious, and then had lied about it the next morning. And to think, Phoenix had _praised_ the man for being so good to him.

The most troubling part of this by far was that Phoenix had no idea _why_ Kristoph would have done this. Even if he hadn't guessed that Phoenix was interested by that time - which would have made no sense whatsoever, because Kristoph was a perceptive man - all he would have had to do is wait a week, and he would have gotten those pictures through perfectly ordinary means, without any need for drugging.

But then, why did Kristoph need _pictures_, anyway? The only answer Phoenix could find for that was that Kristoph specifically wanted to send them to Miles, to drive the wedge further between them. Not that that had been terribly necessary either. So why had Kristoph gone to such lengths? He had to have a reason...

The conclusion Phoenix came to was that he didn't know the reason. He certainly didn't think that he was just so irresistable that Kristoph felt compelled to have him all to himself or anything like that. Kristoph had to have some motivation that he wasn't aware of yet.

Or possibly he was already aware of that motivation, but had been trying to deny it, because it meant that Kristoph wasn't the generous, kind man that Phoenix had fallen in love with. But, well... after seeing those pictures, and determining the truth behind them, he couldn't possibly continue to believe that Kristoph was the person he'd thought he was.

As much as he didn't want to believe it, and might not have if it only affected him, he had a daughter to think about. He wasted no time in informing Trucy, on their way to the bus stop the next morning, that she was _not_ to go anywhere with Mr. Gavin unless he was there with them.

To his surprise, _she_ didn't seem particularly surprised at all, but not for any reason Phoenix would have expected. "Because I scare him, Daddy? I don't mean to..."

Phoenix's eyes narrowed in bewilderment. "...What?"

"He's always really nervous when I'm around. Maybe he doesn't like being surprised? But I'm a magician - we deal in surprises. I really can't help trying to give people happy surprises."

This seemed absurd to Phoenix, but he knew by now that when Trucy said someone felt a certain way, she wasn't just guessing - she _knew_. "...Yeah, honey. Mr. Gavin's not so good with surprises." And she wouldn't call him out on the lie, because Phoenix already knew that Kristoph didn't take the unexpected very well. It gave him an idea, too. "So... have you ever noticed how he feels when he's around me? I know sometimes you've seen the two of us together, before he's noticed you there."

She looked a little guilty. "Uh, sorry for spying, Daddy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay..."

"...Spying?" What exactly had Trucy been up to, he wondered? And worse - how much had she seen? Thank goodness he and Kristoph mostly only got up to funny business when she was in school, or when he'd already put her to bed. "Uhm, anyway... how does he feel to you?"

Trucy considered for a moment. "Well, I think you make him happy," she replied with a smile. "He usually feels like you do when you just got a really good hand at the club."

Phoenix didn't know what to think about that. He made Kristoph happy? Despite _knowing_ that Kristoph was up to something, suddenly he couldn't help but feel kind of guilty for his changing feelings, and that was ridiculous. It was just... he didn't want to believe it. He wanted to believe there was a good reason for this.

Unfortunately, in the middle of the show it occurred to him that if Kristoph felt threatened by Trucy for some reason, that would explain why her trick gun had been swapped for a real one. That made any guilt he felt vanish immediately.

And maybe that feeling that Trucy sensed, like when he got a good hand at the club, wasn't so much happy as it was _smug_.

There were so many little oddities that had stuck out to Phoenix, ever since he met Kristoph. Now that so many of them were starting to fall in line with the larger crises that had left him reeling, he didn't know what to think. There was only one thing he could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, and a few others that he had no explanation for _besides_ Kristoph - but aside from the pictures, it was all just useless suspicion.

Even if it had been just the pictures, Phoenix couldn't ignore it. He'd been deceived by Kristoph, at least once, and the deception was much darker than the usual minor kinds of deception that might take place in an ordinary relationship, little white lies for pride or privacy. Phoenix felt his heart was breaking regardless of his growing anger - he'd really _loved_ Kristoph, or the person he thought Kristoph was. To find out that person didn't exist...

It didn't help, either, when Kristoph came to visit him on another afternoon, which until that moment had been spent staring into space. "I've hardly seen you for a week," Kristoph observed, seating himself on the couch beside Phoenix. "You've not contacted me, either... Is everything all right?"

Phoenix looked at him - at those mild blue eyes behind the glasses, at the sweet, caring smile on his lips - and wrestled with the conflicting urges to kiss him or punch him in the face. "Maybe it's just that I've been reorganizing in here," he lied. "Taking down Mia's things, putting up my own... the place doesn't look at all like it did when it was a law office anymore. Maybe... I'm thinking too much about what I've lost." And that part wasn't a lie at all.

He tried not to flinch when Kristoph leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. "You've been through a lot of big changes in the last year," Kristoph murmured. "I know that I can't entirely solve your problems... but I feel privileged to be allowed to help with the things I can."

...Phoenix remembered saying practically the same thing to Miles once. More than once. But unlike Kristoph, he'd meant it. And Kristoph had ruined everything with his false kindness and solicitude - he'd helped break down the feelings he had for Miles, and then made Miles's feelings for Phoenix break down as well...

He wanted to scream at Kristoph to get the hell out. But if the rest of his suspicions were correct, the last thing Phoenix wanted was for Kristoph to know he was suspicious. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, and sighed. "...I appreciate your help, Kristoph. I really do. I'm just ... I'm a little stressed out right now, I guess, and it's not really something you can help me with, because you didn't know me back then."

"I could at least try?"

"Actually, I'd been thinking," Phoenix replied, though he hadn't been thinking about it at all until just that moment, "of taking Maya up on that offer of spending a few days in Kurain. I miss her, and Pearls... and maybe it's about time I talked to Mia."

"Hmm..." Kristoph looked thoughtful. "This weekend? I might be able to clear my schedule, if I get enough done by Friday morning..."

"I was thinking of the middle of the week, actually." Kristoph raised an eyebrow at Phoenix, and Phoenix added, "Weekends are the busiest days at the club. They wouldn't dare let me have a whole weekend off. Maybe Monday through Wednesday, though..."

"Mm, you have a point," Kristoph acknowledged. "And those are my busiest days, unfortunately. It does seem that our schedules are at odds lately."

Which, of course, was why Phoenix had suggested it. "Yeah, too bad. ...You'd probably be miserable up there anyway. No cell phone reception, no wifi, no cable TV, and we generally sleep on mats on the floor. Not such a big stretch for me, but..."

Kristoph chuckled. "Very true. Speaking of your sleeping arrangements, do you ever intend to buy a bed?"

Which led to talk of how long it had been since Phoenix had slept over, which led to Kristoph suggesting that Phoenix might be open to a bit of stress relief, which led to him kneeling between Phoenix's knees, looking up and giving him a reassuring smile. After finding out the truth about those pictures, this all left Phoenix feeling slightly sick, but his body had already instinctively decided otherwise. He couldn't exactly deny he wanted it, or do anything but lean back and take a deep breath as Kristoph unzipped his fly, trailing his fingers over the half-hard bulge beneath Phoenix's boxers and then drawing it out. In the past, he'd enjoyed watching Kristoph take him into his mouth, but this time he couldn't bear it - Phoenix tilted his head back to rest on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and just letting it happen. As long as he didn't call out someone else's name, he didn't have to think about it being Kristoph, or Kristoph doing this to him while he was helpless and unconscious, or Kristoph doing this to blackmail him...

He didn't have to think about it, but he did anyway. Oddly enough, anger didn't seem to lessen his arousal at all. In fact, it might have even intensified it.

Phoenix had always been careful when Kristoph went down on him, keeping himself in check, making sure he didn't move too much, keeping his hands from pushing and pulling no matter how badly he wanted to. He wasn't inclined towards caution at the moment, however. His fingers had already gravitated to Kristoph's hair, threading through the soft blonde locks idly, and this time he let them tighten. He could feel Kristoph's rhythm falter at the feel of his hair being pulled slightly, but Phoenix held him there, keeping his head in place. Kristoph didn't have much choice but to either pull away, or keep going. He chose the latter, and Phoenix moaned, tugging him closer. Still Kristoph didn't protest, and Phoenix wondered how far he could go...

Before long, Kristoph had taken him nearly all the way in, and Phoenix could feel the length of Kristoph's tongue on the underside of his cock, the little tugs that indicated Kristoph was inclined to back off, but couldn't. The confirmation that this was _not_ going as Kristoph had planned made him smile a little as he tossed his head restlessly, moaning Kristoph's name - and after a moment of holding back, let his hips give in to the urge to buck up further. The little choking sound he got in response was quite satisfactory, though the light scrape from the edge of Kristoph's teeth was enough to tell him he'd better tread carefully.

Phoenix was panting now, and let go of Kristoph's hair with one hand, giving him enough freedom to move without actually letting him back off very far at all. The movements of Kristoph's lips and tongue grew more insistent, clearly trying to finish the job quickly, and Phoenix decided to let him, thrusting just a little more, and the smirk he acquired at the sound of Kristoph gagging softly was lost in a gasp as he came.

Kristoph was sitting back on the floor, breathing as hard as he was and looking somewhat unnerved, when Phoenix managed to open his eyes. "...That was a little... rougher than you usually tend to be," Kristoph observed, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Phoenix shrugged a little. "I guess I really _have_ been tense. I must have gotten a little carried away... Sorry." He leaned forward slightly, smiling down at Kristoph on the floor. "Can I help it if you're so good I can't control myself?"

"Heh..." Kristoph nudged his glasses back into place, regaining his composure. "Try a bit harder next time, if you please. I'd feel terrible if I wound up, say, accidentally biting you."

Fair warning, Phoenix decided, and wondered whether Kristoph had any idea how much he'd figured out.

* * *

Petty revenge was not going to solve the problem. Phoenix needed to figure out what he was going to do about all of this - and before he could do that, he needed some time to himself to regroup.

Once Kristoph had gone, Phoenix used the office phone - never mind whether it was tapped or not, and it might even be better for plausibility if it was - to call Kurain. Thank goodness they had a phone line in the Fey Manor now, or Phoenix would have been left hoping that someone just happened to be walking by that phone booth on the street...

"Hey, Nick!" For all that Maya was the Kurain Master now, she didn't sound a bit older when she talked to him. "What's up? You haven't called in _ages_!"

"Heh, sorry. Things have been a little busy, what with the holidays and everything."

"Oh yeah... We don't really do much up here for Christmas, so I forgot. How's everything? Trucy drive you absolutely nuts yet?"

Phoenix had to smile. "Would anyone notice if she had?"

"Hmm... Now that you mention it, you're right."

"...Maya, you sounded awfully serious there."

It was easy enough to just relax and chat with Maya like nothing had ever happened. Phoenix told her about Trucy's show, and his own strange job, and Maya related some of the oddities in the village, suggested he should come visit...

"Actually, that's why I was calling. I think I need some quiet time away from the city - Trucy could probably use a little mini-vacation too. Would you mind if we stayed a few days?"

"Both of you? Are you _kidding_, Nick? You know Trucy's always welcome, and it would be _great_ to see you again for awhile!"

"Okay, great... early next week, maybe? Weekends don't really work so well for us anymore..."

It didn't take much arrangement, and so the following Monday afternoon, Phoenix and Trucy were stepping off the shuttle bus from the train station, only to be met by two gleeful spirit mediums, who consequently dragged them back to the manor for dinner. Pearl had apparently taken after her mother in one way which Phoenix couldn't bring himself to disapprove of - she'd made them jaw-droppingly large strawberry desserts. Not that he was terribly hungry. He knew after dinner that he had some explaining to do. Maybe to more than one person.

Trucy and Pearl sat down to play some board game or another together after the meal, but he and Maya bowed out, opting instead for a walk along one of the mountain paths. It didn't take long, among the idle talk, for Maya to ask, "Is everything going okay with you and Mr. Edgeworth?"

Possibly he'd been a little too out of touch recently. "...Actually..." Well, that was an opening, at least.

Maya's expression grew more and more dismayed as Phoenix explained how Kristoph had worked his way into his thoughts, how Miles had decided to sever their connection completely - how he found out later _why_ he'd made that decision. Finally, she shook her head. "Nick... how could this happen? That's just... why would anyone do that?"

"I don't know... though I have a few ideas. As for how it could happen? Basically, I was stupid." That seemed to sum everything up pretty nicely.

"You're not stupid," Maya told him in exasperation. "You just have a problem admitting that everyone who's nice to you isn't sunshine and rainbows and fluffy bunnies, pretty much."

"It really doesn't help when the person in question is _pretending_ to be sunshine and rainbows and fluffy bunnies," Phoenix admitted. And since when was she any better about that than he was? ...Well, after what happened with her mother and Godot, Phoenix supposed she had a right to be a little more cynical. "...I mean, Kristoph has this feeling about him. He's always so calm, and gentle, and confident - you know he's in control. And when he smiles, it's like everything's all right with the world. ...I would never have believed he was up to anything if it wasn't for the magatama. And even now, he'll smile at me and I'll just... I start second-guessing all of it."

"Wow, Nick." Maya looked kind of impressed. "And I thought your taste in girlfriends was just awful because you're gay. But you kind of have bad luck all around, huh? Well, except for Mr. Edgeworth," she amended.

"Considering how well that went," Phoenix muttered, "I'm not so sure he's the exception."

"It's not like he didn't have a good reason to be upset," Maya reasoned. "Maybe you should talk to him, tell him what happened."

Phoenix felt a little shiver up his spine; her thoughts were perfectly aligned with his. "...I'd actually been thinking about doing that. I just don't know... He _did_ tell me not to call him again."

"Sure, because it was all fresh in his mind and he hadn't had any time to get over it yet," Maya pointed out. "I didn't want to talk to Iris for awhile either, after all that stuff happened. But, you know, she's my cousin, and Pearly's sister, so..."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow at her. "You've talked to Iris?"

"Yeah - she's out of prison now, and back at Hazakura with Sister Bikini. I went there a couple weeks ago."

"Ah... Is she doing okay?"

"She seems to be all right." Maya elbowed him lightly. "She asked about you, since you hadn't come to see her for a long time."

"...I should probably explain sometime," Phoenix admitted.

"You haven't yet?"

Phoenix shook his head. "Well, have _you_ explained to Pearl?"

"...Okay, you've got a point," Maya admitted. "Still, I thought by now you'd have told Iris."

"I kind of feel bad about the whole thing, though," Phoenix muttered. "Maybe if I let her know Larry's not really such a bad guy..."

"Yeah, he really isn't," Maya agreed, looking thoughtful. "He came out to the village a couple weeks ago, and brought some things my mom had done for her next book. It was really sweet of him. He gets along really well with Pearly, too."

"I'd say it's because they're approximately the same mental age," Phoenix remarked, "but that's doing Pearls a disservice. ...But seriously, he's a pretty good boyfriend. Even if he does go nuts for every girl he meets, if they ever actually respond to it, he pretty much worships the ground they walk on."

Maya eyed him skeptically. "Nick, _you're_ not trying to play matchmaker now too, are you? I get that enough from Pearl."

"What? No! I was talking about Iris!"

Maya's point was driven home when the two of them returned to the manor, and found Pearl and Trucy giggling secretively together over their game. "Daddy? Pearl just told me something really great!" Trucy told him with a big grin. "Maya's going to be my new mommy, right?"

"Er..." Phoenix didn't know what to say, with the two girls grinning so brightly. Maya wasn't much help either, as she was too busy turning red.

"And that means - Pearl and I will be sisters!"

"Well, more like cousins," Pearl added thoughtfully. "Since Mystic Maya is my cousin, not my mother... or would that make us second cousins?"

"Uh, okay, look," Phoenix said, kneeling down next to the game board with them. "You're already friends, right? In a way, being friends is even better than being second cousins, and sometimes even sisters. I mean, you get to _choose_ friends - you can't choose relatives. That makes friendship special in a whole other way."

"Yeah, absolutely!" Maya chimed in. "I mean, Pearly... you know how you just found out you _have_ sisters? One of them is really nice, and the other was really scary - and you didn't even know about either of them! Just being related doesn't mean you'll get along, see? It's okay to just be friends."

"But can't we be friends _and_ sisters?" Trucy asked.

"Or friends and second cousins," Pearl corrected her. "Can we, Mystic Maya?"

"Anyway, I think it's about bedtime!" Maya chirped a little too loudly, turning towards the hallway in a rush. "Come on, Nick - can you give me a hand with the guest beds?"

"Sure!" Phoenix said in relief. Never mind that the guest beds were pretty much a roll of mats and blankets, and didn't require much help.

Once they were alone, Maya aimed an exasperated look at Phoenix as she pulled out the guest bedding. "So all your talk about telling Pearl why it's not going to happen, and you haven't told Trucy?"

"Is it my fault it just hasn't occurred to her?" Phoenix groaned. "I've kissed Kristoph in front of her, she's found us snuggled up in bed together - clothed, thank goodness - I thought maybe she'd have figured it out."

"Maybe it's a good thing she hasn't," Maya observed, rolling out the mats across the floor. "I mean, if all she knows is this Kristoph guy, and he's pretty shady..." She looked up at Phoenix abruptly. "If it was Mr. Edgeworth you were spending time with, I bet she'd know. It was sort of impossible to miss, with you two."

Except for Phoenix, who had been a little surprised when Maya's response to the admission he was crushing on Miles was basically 'Well, _duh!_' ...He kind of didn't know what to say to that, so he just took hold of the far end of the blanket Maya was straightening, and helped lay it out.

And for the rest of the evening, as they tidied up and got the girls off to bed, the thought he'd had even before arrival kept pushing itself to the forefront of his mind. Before long, it became obvious that a night away from secret cameras and hidden threats was not going to be any more restful, thanks to the urge to do something which was probably either the stupidest thing he could do, or - a very slim chance, he admitted - the best.

Phoenix didn't know what the time difference would be now, but late night or early morning was probably the best way to go. He waited until it sounded as though Trucy was asleep, then Phoenix got up from his own mat and took a walk out to the public phone by the bus stop, where there was less chance of someone overhearing.

...And proceeded to pace back and forth, second-guessing. Maybe it was better to leave things alone. At Christmas, Franziska said he seemed to be doing okay. Maybe talking to him would just make things worse. He should probably just... let him go.

The sky was sparkling with stars by the time Phoenix realized his legs and his head were aching from pacing and worrying, and he stopped, staring at the phone booth that was the cause of his current indecision. ...He didn't know what to do. He only knew what he _wanted_ to do.

A few minutes later, he stepped inside and reached for the pile of change in his pocket. With every click of the coins into the machine, he thought about stopping right there... but he kept going, until there was enough. He was rather annoyed that his finger was shaking - it would be even worse if he misdialed. During the pause as the phone parsed the international number, Phoenix sat down tiredly, leaning against the glass and trying to pull himself together before he got an answer. If he got an answer.

It rang three times, then there was a click. "Edgeworth speaking."

So much for pulling himself together. Hearing Miles's voice again, sounding perfectly normal, brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn't speak. "Hello?" Miles asked after a pause, a hint of impatience creeping in.

"It's me," Phoenix managed - then, after thinking about it, "Phoenix Wright." Nothing but silence, and Phoenix remembered the last time he'd tried to call. "Please don't hang up," he added. Still nothing. "_Please._ I need to tell you something. ..._Please._"

Phoenix waited a few seconds longer, but there was still no answer. Maybe Miles had already hung up. "Miles..." he murmured. "Please..."

"...I'll hear you out." Miles's voice sounded... gruff. "I suppose you wouldn't call after so long unless you had a reason."

Phoenix let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and it was a shaky one. "Thank you."

This time the pause was shorter. "What's going on, Wright?"

Where to even begin? "...I'm sorry." That seemed like a good starting point. "I'm... really sorry about what I did to you."

"Wright..." Miles sounded irritable. "Is that all?"

"I made a mistake. A _terrible_ mistake, getting involved with Kristoph. I was... really wrong, to go after him instead of staying with you."

The sigh on the other end of the line couldn't have been taken as anything other than irritable, and Miles's words were practically snarled. "So in other words, it didn't work out, and now you're trying to come crawling back to me. It's been the better part of a _year_, Wright. You can't possibly think that for all this time I've been sitting around moping, _pining_ after you, waiting for you to change your mind? I will _not_ be your backup plan," Miles snapped. "You made your decision, and I respected it enough to move on."

"I know," Phoenix said quickly. Even though, to be honest... he'd hoped maybe it would be possible. It was stupid, though - after what he'd done, how could he expect things to just be okay again after an apology? "I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you I was an idiot... and I'm sorry."

There was another long pause, and Phoenix tried to control himself at least enough not to sniffle into the phone. Finally, grudgingly, Miles spoke again. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Uh, kind of," Phoenix amended, and brushed a hand over his eyes. "...I don't know. Things are... complicated. But I'll be okay..." He wasn't at all sure about that, under the circumstances, but if Miles didn't want to be a part of his life anymore, which is what it sounded like, he shouldn't-

"You don't sound all right. ...Did you really just call me to apologize?"

"Well... no. There's something else you should know." Maybe something could be salvaged out of all of this, for someone. "Those pictures... uhm, of Kristoph and I... the explicit ones. Gumshoe didn't take those. He didn't do anything he shouldn't have done. So please don't be angry with him."

The pause this time was more confused than strained. "...He didn't?"

"He didn't. Someone else took them, and instructed him to give them to you. He just didn't mention it, and you never gave him the chance to explain."

Another pause, and Phoenix could just imagine Miles struggling to process this knowledge. "...Well. That makes more sense. I didn't think even Gumshoe would be so stupidly... invasive."

Phoenix almost managed a chuckle. "Yeah. He's smarter than that. And he's been a big help to me recently... so I wanted to repay the favor, now that I know he was set up."

"By who? ...Who wanted me to see those pictures?"

Miles caught on fast - maybe it was his usual paranoia at work. At least for once it was warranted. "I don't know." Phoenix took another deep breath. "I didn't consent to that."

Again, Miles paused to think, and it took some time. "...To having the pictures taken?"

Of course he could read between the lines too, Phoenix thought. "...Or to what was happening in them."

The pause this time was painfully long, and Phoenix couldn't stand the silence. "It's not so bad as it sounds. To be honest... I would have consented. If I'd been allowed a choice. But I wasn't. I'm pretty sure he drugged me, for the sole purpose of taking those pictures and sending them to you. To make sure you wouldn't take me back."

"...My god, Phoenix," Miles breathed. "Is that what you meant? About having made a mistake?"

"Oh no," Phoenix said bitterly. "That's not even scratching the surface."

"Tell me."

Phoenix wanted to, but... "Miles... It was my _own_ mistake, letting myself fall for him. I admit it. You said yourself that you-"

This time, Miles sounded much more firm. "Tell me."

Phoenix was not in the mood to argue. "...Okay. I can't actually prove any of this yet," he began, "but everything's been falling into place. There was the drugging, to take these pictures to break us up - that's basically a sure thing. It looks like he hid cameras in my apartment, too, and may have killed the man who helped him. Which makes it all the more likely that he might have been the one who either tried to kill Trucy or to make her accidentally hurt someone-"

"What?!"

"Someone switched her trick gun, one she uses in her magic shows, for a real one. Fortunately she noticed something was different before she went on. And the more I look into things," Phoenix continued, "the more I wonder if he's the one who commissioned the fake evidence. Which would explain why he'd want to get rid of Trucy - that was the part that I just couldn't believe, until I factored that in."

"You've gone to the police, haven't you?" Miles asked, his voice tight. "You mentioned Gumshoe."

"He's been helping me sort out some of this, but I haven't made a formal report. Gumshoe still hasn't figured out who I suspect and why even after arranging forensic tests - none of the evidence points to Kristoph at all, just the circumstances, and... and when I ask him about these things, the magatama shows me he has secrets. Even _you_ couldn't convict someone on the basis of psyche-locks. If I go to the police with this, and point to him, he'll just get off - and then he might try to get rid of me, just like he might have gotten rid of the last person who could have gotten him convicted of something, and like _someone_ tried to get Trucy out of the way..."

"Phoenix? Where are you?"

"Trucy and I came to Kurain for the weekend, to stay with Maya and Pearls. Away from the cameras, away from _him_-"

"I'll be there tomorrow morning."

Phoenix stopped short. "...Miles..." And suddenly he wasn't sure what to say, because he was tearing up again. "You don't have to get involved," he managed.

"I'll be there," Miles repeated, his tone making it clear that he would hear no argument. "What time is it where you are?"

"I don't know," Phoenix admitted, glancing up at the sky. "Sometime after midnight...?"

"It's nearly three in the morning," Miles answered his own question. "Get some sleep, and call me back sometime around seven or eight - I'll have an itinerary by then. If I don't answer, I'm probably already on a plane."

Phoenix could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Hearing those words was such a vast relief, it overpowered and swept away all his worries, all his unhappiness - he knew it was unrealistic, but somehow he felt that everything would be fine, just as long as Miles was there. Slumped there alone in the bottom of the phone booth, he covered his eyes with his free hand, physically trying to hold himself together. "...Thank you, Miles. Thanks _so much_..."

A hesitation, a little hitch in Miles's breathing, as if he'd started to say something, then changed his mind. "You're welcome," he said simply. "Now, get some rest. I'll see you soon."

"Y-yeah..."

"Good night, Phoenix."

"...Good night."

"...It's morning already where I am, you know."

The grudging little obsession with details made Phoenix smile in spite of everything. "Good morning, then."

"I wouldn't go that far," came the wry remark, but then the voice softened. "Maybe tomorrow."

Phoenix nodded slightly to himself. "...Maybe."

Even after the phone went silent, Phoenix stayed there on the floor of the booth just a little longer, eyes closed, trying to make himself believe he hadn't just dreamed that conversation. He wished he could have used his cell phone all the way out in Kurain - just to prove it to himself later. ...Then again, it probably wasn't safe to have a record of himself stating his suspicions right there on his cell phone, so perhaps it was a good thing he couldn't.

Although his phone got no reception so far into the mountains, the timer function still worked. As Phoenix started back to the Fey Manor, he set it to go off at seven-thirty in the morning. If his conversation with Miles had really happened, if it wasn't a dream... then he had to wake up and make a phone call.


	12. Chapter 12

The alarm woke him, proving it was real. Miles was coming back. _For him._ And as if that wasn't difficult enough for Phoenix to believe, when he tried calling Miles again as requested, there was no answer - which meant he was already on his way.

His phone's alarm had woken Trucy, too, but that was all right. She pointed out that she got up earlier than that for school most days, so she didn't mind getting an early start. Phoenix was a little less enthusiastic about being up and around for good, but he took her out to the garden for a little walk and maybe a little talk until everyone else woke up.

"What's going on, Daddy?" she asked almost immediately. "You're even more nervous than you _have_ been... but in a different way." She eyed him appraisingly, then smiled a little. "In a good way."

How _did_ she do that? "To be honest, Trucy..." He had to smile a little himself. "I talked to an old friend last night. Someone I haven't seen for a really long time, but it looks like I'm going to see him again tomorrow."

"Can I meet him?"

All the good anxiety turned slightly sour as Phoenix recalled that she _had_ met him before, and that had not exactly gone over well. "...I sure hope so. I'd really like the two of you to be friends too."

Trucy looked skeptical. "Something funny's going on... Is he your friend like Mr. Gavin was your friend?"

"W-what? How do you mean?" True, she was good at figuring things out, but... he was sure after last night's outburst that she hadn't figured out that he and Kristoph were...

"Well, lately it's seemed like you and Mr. Gavin aren't really friends at all. Since you told me not to go anywhere alone with him and everything..."

...Oh. Like that. Phoenix was a little relieved, except for the part where Trucy's question suddenly had a more serious answer. "...Mr. Edgeworth has been my friend since I was your age," he replied. "I absolutely believe that we both can trust him. ...I'm just not so sure he feels the same way about me anymore."

"Oh. That's easy," Trucy assured him. "I can tell you once he gets here."

"That's, uh, okay." Phoenix wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Once Maya was awake, Phoenix pulled her aside briefly to tell her Miles was coming, probably the next morning. "All right! I'll make sure we've got enough stuff to make breakfast for him too," was all she said, and Phoenix wondered - was he really so predictable?

As for breakfast that morning, Phoenix was too tense to eat much at all. While everyone else was eating, he tried to call again, this time from the phone in the manor. He only got voicemail, but he supposed that whenever Miles landed, at least now he had a number where he could be reached.

Sure enough, a few hours after he'd excused himself to try to get a little more sleep, he woke to find Maya had taken a message. "Mr. Edgeworth called," she told him. "He said not to wake you up, but he gave me his travel info to pass along..."

Phoenix looked over the slip of paper she handed him, times and places and numbers, and tried to recall how many time zones away each of the stops were, how far away Miles was right that moment, how far he'd come already. His stomach twisted nervously. He was due to land in Chicago soon, and then... "He's going to be here tonight, then."

"He was going to try, at least," Maya confirmed. "If his last flight's delayed at all, though, he won't be able to catch the last train out here. If that happens, he's just going to have to spend the night in a hotel or something and catch it tomorrow morning."

That sounded far more maddening to Phoenix - the idea that Miles might be in LA for the night. So close, but still not _there_. The look on his face must have given it away, because Maya grinned. "You know, Nick... I don't mind keeping an eye on Trucy tonight, if you had somewhere else to be."

"...I really shouldn't," Phoenix admitted. "I'd have to pay the fare for myself again, both ways."

"But it would be worth it, wouldn't it? It's not like this vacation is costing you much anyway, since you're staying with us. And the two of you could have some time alone to sort things out before you're smothered by curious little girls - even if he does get in early enough to catch the train. A whole couple of hours."

That was definitely a good point, Phoenix had to admit. "...Maya? Next time you come into the city, I'm going to buy you as many burgers as you want."

Of course, the train didn't actually stop right there in Kurain, and the bus to the closest town with a train station only came three times a day, so Phoenix had to either think fast or do some walking - which they were going to have to do that night anyway, if they took the last train. With that in mind, Phoenix found himself at the airport particularly early - too late to have called Miles during the layover in Chicago, but while there were still a couple of hours left in his flight. At least the displays at the airport indicated the flight was right on schedule. Good thing, because the waiting was driving him crazy. Waiting, and wondering what Miles was going to say, and what _he_ was going to say, and what was an appropriate way to greet him after all this time and so many confused feelings between them...

By the time the monitors blinked over to say that the flight had arrived, Phoenix would have been sorely tempted to flee, if he had any way to get back to Kurain that wouldn't be the same exact way Miles would be taking. Since he didn't, he gathered up enough nerve to start towards the baggage claim the monitors indicated. Just out of instinct, he found himself scanning the crowds of passengers for that particular, unique shade of red that Miles insisted over and over was not pink.

Whatever color it was, it made his heart do a funny little flutter when he caught sight of it further down the terminal.

He hadn't noticed Phoenix yet, it seemed; he was wheeling along a moderately-sized suitcase, glancing upwards briefly at the signs overhead, then turning his eyes downward again, to nothing in particular. Of course, he didn't know anyone would be meeting him... which was driven home when he walked right past the baggage claim for his flight - and right past Phoenix - without looking up.

Phoenix blinked, and turned to address him. "Uh... ah..." That was all he managed to get out before Miles turned, wearing a vague frown, and Miles's eyes narrowed for a moment before widening, as he recognized who was standing there, just a few feet from him. Though he took a step closer, he didn't seem to know what to say, and Phoenix didn't have a clue either, though the silence between them was decidedly awkward.

It didn't last long, however. After a brief pause, Miles took another step towards him - and before Phoenix could think of something appropriate to say, suddenly Miles's arms were around him, strong and firm and holding him tight, if a bit stiff.

Startled, Phoenix flinched for a moment before realizing what was going on. It was just the way _he_ had held _Miles_ sometimes when he had woken from the persistent nightmares, or when he finally got the two of them alone after a difficult day at the courthouse... and after that moment, his own arms rose to wrap around Miles in turn as he leaned his head gratefully on Miles's shoulder. He hoped and prayed that his embrace had been so comforting to Miles in the past, because this was better than he had ever expected, maybe the best thing he had ever felt in his entire life, and he found himself burying his face in Miles's lapels, overwhelmed and savoring the feeling. Miles's head inclined next to his, resting against him as he gradually relaxed as well, and his hands were flat on Phoenix's back, holding the two of them together. It was a struggle for Phoenix not to fist his hands in the other man's jacket (he knew from experience it usually got him a lecture about how hard it was to get wrinkles out of the fabric).

Never mind the other travellers walking past them and around them, carrying on their own conversations - Phoenix and Miles simply stood there for some time, holding each other, until Miles murmured, "Perhaps we should move out of the way."

"...Yeah..." Phoenix drew back a little, and was surprised when he saw the dark, wet spots on Miles's lapels, where his face had been. Raising his eyes, it seemed to him that Miles's eyes were just a little too bright as well. "Miles..."

Miles gave him a small, wistful smile, and raised his hand presumably to run his fingers through Phoenix's spiky hair - though the hat he was wearing prevented it, and Miles's hand rested on the back of his head, benign. "Even if I'd been expecting you to meet me here, I see you've camouflaged your most unique feature. With something even more unique, oddly enough."

"This?" Phoenix laughed softly, reaching up to scratch his head through the hat. "Trucy gave it to me for Christmas. She... she's made me really happy." Never so happy as he felt now, though.

"I'm glad."

Their eyes met again, and despite their intention to move, remained standing there with their arms around each other a little longer. Finally, Phoenix looked down. "We should grab your luggage, probably."

"I didn't check any," Miles informed him. "I travelled light, just a carry-on, to avoid the hassle. After all, I did want to make the last train to Kurain."

"Ah... If we don't get moving, we're going to miss it." Not that Phoenix had budged.

Miles shrugged slightly. "The only reason I tried to make it before the last train was so that I could see you tonight, instead of tomorrow."

"Mm..." The smile Phoenix had been wearing since Miles had wrapped his arms around him faltered abruptly - he wanted to kiss Miles, and quite badly, but he suddenly remembered that he shouldn't.

Miles shook his head. "...Come along - we might as well find out if we're too late," he suggested, starting to turn away.

One hand reached for the suitcase he'd been wheeling along, but the other stayed around Phoenix's waist, to Phoenix's surprise. "You, uh... you never used to touch me in public," Phoenix murmured, following Miles's lead as they headed towards the shuttle. "Much less like this."

Miles turned his head away just a little further. "I know I didn't. ...Knowing what Detective Gumshoe overheard you and Gavin speaking about in the park, I began to wonder after I got your phone call - if perhaps you wouldn't have had to go through all of this, if only I _had_."

Phoenix shook his head. "Don't go back to the blaming yourself now, Miles. This was _my_ fault. He manipulated me, and I went along with it."

"It would seem I played right into his hands as well," Miles muttered, "though in a lesser capacity."

Phoenix still had an arm around Miles's waist as well - he didn't want to let go, even for a moment - and he squeezed him tighter. "It's not like you didn't suffer too. Probably more than I did." Since Phoenix had Trucy, and Maya - and up until recently, Kristoph had made him happy as well.

Miles didn't say a word to deny it, and that was how Phoenix knew that he really _had_ suffered. "...I'm sorry," Phoenix added.

"Let's not get into it just yet," Miles stated, still looking away. "I'm still not sure what I think I'm doing, dropping everything to come back here and see you."

Phoenix had some idea, or at least he hoped he did, but he didn't voice it aloud.

* * *

The shuttle to the train station made its rounds every fifteen minutes, so there was no worry about getting that far. On the other hand, they'd stood at the baggage claim hugging each other for so long, the next shuttle trip was just slightly too late for them to catch the last mountain-bound train.

Phoenix stared down the empty track with a vague frown. "Sorry about that... I guess we could take a taxi, but that would be _really_ expensive."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Miles muttered, turning back towards the entrance. "Didn't I already tell you I had no reason for getting to Kurain tonight, except for seeing you as quickly as possible?" With a shrug, he started wheeling his suitcase outside. "I was already prepared to pay for a hotel room if I was delayed."

Phoenix stared after him for a moment, thinking (though both of them had been reluctant, they'd had to let go of each other long enough to step off the shuttle), until Miles glanced back. "You _are_ invited to share it, in case you were wondering."

He was. At this point, it was probably a little stupid to think even for a second that he wouldn't be, but he still didn't know exactly where he stood with Miles, or where he _would_ stand once he told Miles everything. With that in mind, he was disappointed but not particularly surprised when Miles stepped to the counter of one of the nearby hotels and requested a double room rather than a king-size.

Wordlessly, he followed Miles to the room, hovering by the door while Miles parked his carry-on by one of the beds (how did he still know that Miles would take the bed closest to the door?) and began to remove his jacket. Finally Miles looked up, as he loosened the collar of his shirt, absent the cravat at the moment. "You may have noticed that I asked for a room with two beds. Due to the limitations imposed upon me by a physical body, I can only use one of them at a time."

Phoenix smiled a little as he came to sit on the end of the far bed, but Miles must have noticed that it was half- hearted. "I don't think it would be wise of us to share a bed at this time," Miles muttered. "There are too many... unknown factors."

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," Phoenix answered him. But honestly, he understood - and he even agreed, if reluctantly.

"...How am I supposed to answer that, Wright?" Miles nearly growled, seating himself on the end of his own bed and glaring accusingly at the carpet. "I don't know what there is to know that I don't know - and I _certainly_ don't know how much of it I _want_ to know."

"Well, if you don't know what you want to talk about, or if you do want to talk about it..." Phoenix was more than willing to oblige Miles's needs, all things considered. "What _do_ you want?"

Miles continued to glare; Phoenix was surprised that the carpet wasn't smoking. "...I don't know." After a moment, he turned that glare to Phoenix. "What do _you_ want?"

"Aside from things that are impossible, I don't know either," Phoenix admitted. "In general terms... I want to fix everything that's gone wrong in the last year. There's a lot of it I can't do anything about right now, but-"

"If you had _contacted_ me, instead of hiding," Miles pointed out, "then perhaps we could have done something about it."

"Yeah - when I said 'things that are impossible', I meant turning back time and making better choices," Phoenix said, meeting that glare evenly. "We can't go back in time. All we can do is try to fix things here and now. And maybe I can't do anything about my badge, or about the fact that I've been sleeping with a guy who's definitely up to something. But you're here, and I'm here, and maybe we can straighten things out between _us_."

"Things were never straightened out between us in the first place," Miles growled, crossing his arms over his chest, averting his eyes self-consciously. "I was never very good at maintaining a proper relationship."

Seeing him so obviously wallowing in self-hatred, Phoenix felt terrible for him. "For a first try, you did okay. I mean... relationships are tough. They take a lot of work."

"Which you were willing to do, and I wasn't."

"Who was it who practically threw fits about the other being overseas all the time?" Phoenix sighed, and reached up to remove his hat, running his fingers through the unruly hair beneath. "But that's all in the past now, okay? Let's not let it bog us down. It can teach us things, sure, but... it doesn't have to dictate our future."

"I've been trying to make myself believe that since I saw those pictures." Miles's voice sounded rough, and a little shaky as he turned his face to the wall. "I've told myself for months - _months_ \- that just because I'd once had feelings towards you didn't mean I had to feel that way for the rest of my life. Sometimes I believed it. But then you call me, and even _before_ you explain that you're in trouble, I have to fight back the urge to find the first available flight back to this country. I've tried to satisfy my needs with faceless, nameless men who asked nothing of me, and never _truly_ was satisfied. And then seeing you again at the airport, even after all of this..." Miles paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "...only my concern about your psychological wellbeing after what that Gavin bastard did to you kept me from throwing you down and taking you right there at the baggage carousel."

Phoenix had never seen Miles actually break down and cry, but he sounded like that was what he was on the verge of doing. He took a deep breath of his own, starting to say something apologetic or maybe just encouraging - but then stopped short, as the last part of what Miles said registered. ...He had always had too vivid an imagination.

At the stifled sputtering noise Phoenix abruptly made, Miles glanced back over his shoulder warily, and his eyebrows drew together. "...I said _at_ the baggage carousel," he muttered in exasperation. "Not _on_ the baggage carousel."

Clearly Miles knew Phoenix and his imagination too well, and having the resulting mental image stated aloud made it completely impossible for Phoenix to stifle his laughter any longer. The irritated look on Miles's face just made it worse, and he felt bad about it, but...

Slowly, the scowl faded, and Miles smiled weakly. "...All right, I'll admit that _is_ a mildly amusing thought..." Suddenly he turned his head away again, but the little choked sound he made didn't sound _at all_ to Phoenix like he was crying, and that made Phoenix laugh even harder. "You idiot," Miles complained, without any force whatsoever, between his own halting laughs, as Phoenix collapsed on his back on his bed to laugh helplessly.

When Phoenix managed to remember how to breathe again, he looked over to see Miles regarding him from the other bed with a fond, weary smile. "I don't understand you at all, Wright," he admitted. "I'm not used to... the things you do to me."

"I think I _do_ understand you, for the most part," Phoenix acknowledged, "but sometimes I just didn't have the patience to deal with it. ...I should never have given up."

"You were tricked," Miles reminded him softly, and then the smile was gone. "...Seriously, Phoenix. What he did to you..."

"I don't really feel horribly traumatized or violated or anything," Phoenix told him, folding his arms behind his head. "I mean, I've slept with him voluntarily since then, lots of times. Sure, it creeps me out, but it's more the idea of him drugging me than the sex that's really disturbing. That, and wondering if he's really responsible for all the other things that have happened to me in the last year, and all the things that are connected to those things. It's like a giant spiderweb, and I can't see for certain who's spinning it. Whether he's the spider, or just another fly tearing the strands..."

"I want to help you," Miles murmured. "Since our paths crossed again, you've been trying to help me. Now that it's you in trouble, I want to return the favor, but I don't know how."

"That's okay," Phoenix assured him, staring up at the ceiling. "Honestly, I never really knew how to help you either. And I obviously didn't do as good a job as I wanted to..."

"You did more than enough."

Phoenix shrugged. "...I guess I did do enough, because you're here now."

Miles made a soft sound of disbelief, and then his bed creaked slightly as he got up, sitting instead next to Phoenix on his. "Didn't you realize? That was what I meant when I said you did more than enough - you were there when I needed you."

Phoenix smiled up at him. "Then you should know that's enough for me right now, too."

Miles didn't smile back. Phoenix did recognize the look on his face, though, before he turned it away, resting a hand on Phoenix's arm. Phoenix supposed that even if he wasn't afraid of sex, _Miles_ clearly was conflicted about the matter. And well, so was he, a little, and the smile faded. "Honestly, Miles. I didn't come all the way from Kurain to meet you because I wanted to sleep with you - and I know you didn't fly all this way to sleep with me. Too much has happened between us to make it so simple. But you know what? That's fine. The way you were holding me back there, when you recognized me? That was better than sex. Just having you with me."

Miles hesitated, then looked back at him with a half-hearted smirk. "If that was better than sex, I was clearly not doing my job."

Phoenix smirked a little in response, teasing him right back. "Fine - sex was better, but only when you held me like that in the process."

Miles's smile turned more earnest, and he stroked up Phoenix's forearm absently. Then, after another moment's hesitation, he moved to lie down next to Phoenix, and Phoenix shifted to accomodate his arms, to rest his own against Miles's torso and over his waist. With a satisfied sigh, he leaned his head towards Miles, so they were practically eye to eye. "...I missed you."

"I missed you too," Miles admitted reluctantly. "And I loathed myself for that weakness." His sigh was somewhat less contented than Phoenix's had been. "Why must you make everything so complicated?"

"I don't think it's so complicated," Phoenix reasoned, and paused before going on - Miles _hated_ the word. "It's only love. That's about as uncomplicated as it gets."

"How is it in any way uncomplicated?" Miles complained vaguely. "It disrupts my life more than anything else I've ever experienced."

"Only because you try to keep it separate from your life," Phoenix murmured. "If you just accept it as part of life, it makes a lot more sense."

"If I'd accepted it when you offered, the last several months would have been even worse."

Phoenix wanted to apologize again already. Especially since there was more he had to tell Miles.

...Phoenix really didn't want to tell him. It would ruin the moment. It might ruin more than the moment, in fact, and he was horribly tempted to say nothing at all, to let the two of them just have tonight to pretend everything was all right. Or, well, he was being careful - maybe it was better to just not say anything about it to Miles at all. It didn't matter.

On the other hand, just look at what had happened when he'd procrastinated on telling Miles about his being disbarred, and about Trucy.

"Miles," he murmured, after a long hesitation. "I don't want to have to tell you this, but... considering how this all turned out, I guess it _is_ best to just be up front about everything, and not hide anything, even if it doesn't mean anything, really..."

Miles was just staring at him seriously, his introspection having vanished. "What is it, Wright?"

Back to the last name. Phoenix supposed he deserved that. "I can't leave him."

Miles's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"I _can't_. Not if everything I suspect is true. _Someone_ has been spying on me, and part of it was someone hiding a camera in the piano. The piano which _he gave me_, and then he lied when I asked him about the 'keyhole' on the front. And even if it's somehow _not_ him who put it there, the magatama proves he knows _something_ about it that he's not admitting to - and the one other person I could have asked was killed before anyone had the chance. That could be a coincidence, but then there's the part where Trucy's trick gun suddenly turned into a real one, which was _definitely_ not part of the act. And it was at his house before the show."

"Wouldn't that be all the more reason to get as far away from him as possible?"

"If I _could_, I would. In a heartbeat. But Miles - someone put Trucy in danger, someone killed the man who produced the cameras. If it was just my own safety I was worried about, I'd run as far from him as I could, but there's Trucy to think about now. If I let on that I'm suspicious, he could hurt me, or he could hurt her..."

"Wright..."

"I didn't want to let him know where I was going to be for a few days," Phoenix admitted, "but if I didn't have an answer for him, if I started hiding things from him, he'd probably figure out a way to find out - and then he might hurt Maya to keep her from helping me. If he finds out I saw you, then _you're_ in danger too. But only if I act like something's wrong between us. If I can keep him believing that I trust him..."

"Wright," Miles interrupted him, letting go of him to grab his arms and shake him lightly. "There are agencies that you can go to, who will protect you - both you _and_ Trucy."

"Protect us from what?" Phoenix pointed out bitterly. "From the guy who helped me pick up the pieces after my career was ruined? The guy who spent - I don't even _know_ how much it cost - of his own money to renovate my office into a comfortable apartment? Sure, if I want the protection of some nice men in long white coats."

"It's not an uncommon circumstance," Miles said firmly. "In domestic abuse cases, from the outside it frequently looks as if the other party is supportive, until a report is made-"

"I already explained why I can't make a report," Phoenix reminded him. "There's no evidence, and no evidence means no case. I don't even know myself how much of what's going on is him, I just know he's involved."

"Then let an investigation open," Miles insisted, his eyes sharp and angry, and shook him lightly again, probably not even realizing he was doing it. "Let the police do their work, let them _find_ evidence."

"You know as well as I do that the police miss things. I'm not being egotistical here, Miles, just realistic - _you know_ I run a tighter investigation than most people at the department. There's _nothing to find_," Phoenix insisted. "I'm the closest one to him, I've got the help of the magatama, and if even _I_ can't find any evidence, he's cleaned up after himself better than anyone else I've investigated. I've seen him in the courtroom, Miles - he's _incredibly_ intelligent, I know he's capable of it."

Miles just stared at him a moment longer, then abruptly let go, getting up and heading for the bathroom. Phoenix propped himself up on his elbows as the door practically slammed behind Miles, and then there was the faint sound of running water. He sighed; he had known that wasn't going to go over well. It was just that... for all of Miles's denial, which wasn't surprising, it was pretty obvious by now that Miles had expected a different situation than the one he'd arrived in the middle of. Which also wasn't surprising.

Which was why he tried to clarify, when Miles emerged, shirtless, and knelt to pull a bathrobe out of his suitcase - silk, as was usual for him. "...I didn't call you because I wanted you to take me back unconditionally. That would have been a nice side effect," he admitted, "but I knew it wasn't realistic."

"It might have been nice for you to inform _me_ of that," Miles grumbled, disappearing into the bathroom again, and Phoenix sighed, stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers before lying back again, since it looked like Miles was just getting ready for bed.

Miles barely gave him a glance when he returned again, this time in the bathrobe, and climbed into his own bed, staring across the room at the television, which wasn't turned on. Phoenix glanced over at him briefly, but said nothing - he knew pressuring Miles to talk about his feelings usually ended badly - and stared aimlessly across the room himself, waiting.

"I thought," Miles said at last, "from what you said on the phone, you already knew that you had to distance yourself from him."

"I do," Phoenix replied. "I just don't see _how_ I can distance myself from him without solving the puzzle first. Physically, anyway," he amended. "Emotionally distance myself, though? I'm... getting there."

Miles shot him a vaguely dirty look before glowering at the far side of the room again. "So despite your suspicions, you're going to keep seeing him. And... and sleeping with him."

"...Kind of." Phoenix could understand why that bothered Miles, of course. "Not because I want to."

"How can you 'kind of' sleep with someone, Wright? Either you do or you don't."

"Kristoph's pretty weird about sex," Phoenix admitted. "I always thought there was something a little off about it."

Miles looked back at him, and this time the look was somewhat more concerned. "...What do you mean?"

"...You don't really want to hear the answer to that, do you?" Phoenix wouldn't, if it was him.

"He doesn't just... use you to get off, or something along those lines, does he?"

"Sort of the opposite, really." Phoenix's gaze wandered off nowhere in particular, and happened to land on the window. "He gets me off, and refuses to let me return the favor. Which I don't mind at this point, because I don't want to touch him any more than I have to, but... the only time it's mutual is when he takes me from behind. He never lets me see his face..."

Miles took a deep breath. "...It sounds to me," he murmured, "as if he's getting off on something other than you."

"...Yeah." Phoenix was starting to get some idea what, too, and that didn't make him feel very good about himself. "I wish I'd figured that out sooner."

"How could you _not_ see it?"

"I dunno... I was crazy about him at first? And well, he's not bad at what he does. At all." Thinking about it, as much as it bothered him, was kind of turning him on. "Actually... he's really good. So I didn't mind." He had some idea of what Miles was thinking, though. "The two of you are completely different, and he kind of took me by surprise, but in the end? I missed your insistence on seeing me. I missed being able to surprise you by trying something new. I missed being able to look you in the eye, and seeing the look on your face when I made you come."

Miles had turned his head - they were looking each other in the eye _now_. There was just a hint of something wild in Miles's eyes, and Phoenix shook his head, sure that his own were starting to glaze over.

"...Why can't I just be angry with you?" Miles muttered.

"Because you missed me too," Phoenix replied seriously. "And you liked the same things. It's like I said before - it's not really that complicated."

Miles closed his eyes, shook his head. After a moment, he reached over to the nightstand between the two beds, taking the television remote - and then, to Phoenix's surprise, scooted over to the far side of the bed, giving Phoenix a questioning look. That was good enough for Phoenix, and as Miles turned the television on, he settled down in Miles's bed, rearranging the pillows a little to prop himself up. "You know there's nothing on at this hour except sports highlights and sitcom reruns, don't you?" Phoenix pointed out as Miles flipped through the couple dozen channels provided by the hotel.

Miles settled his free arm across Phoenix's shoulders, but didn't look at him. "There's always pay-per-view."

That hadn't exactly been Phoenix's point. "So you had me come over here so we could watch a movie together?"

"I still think it would be a terrible idea for us to do anything tonight," Miles stated, glowering at the television some more, "But I wanted you here. However, I know I'll do something foolish without distraction."

Phoenix paused, letting him check a couple more stations before answering. "...Just in case we _do_ wind up doing something foolish, if it makes it a little easier... Kristoph and I always used protection."

Leaning against Miles as he was, he could feel the brief hitch in Miles's breathing, but whether it was good or bad, he couldn't say. "I'm glad," Miles murmured, and continued regarding the television with an irritable gaze.

Phoenix glanced at the clock. Bottom of the hour - there would be a crop of new programs starting after all the commercial breaks they were hitting. Sure enough, about a minute later, he heard the middle of a familiar theme song. "Hey, this one's not bad, as sitcoms go."

Miles gave him a look. "I don't care to spend my time in bars in the real world - why would I want to watch a sitcom set in one?"

Phoenix grinned at him. "There's a regular in this one that reminds me of you, kind of. A psychiatrist, not a lawyer, but..."

Miles made a scoffing sound and moved on. A few channels later, he paused, finding a cast of characters familiar to them both. "Hmm, what do you know," Phoenix mused. "I didn't know they aired Steel Samurai at this hour."

"Now that it's in syndication, they apparently do." Miles paused a few moments longer, watching the setup for the episode, then groaned and changed channels again.

"Don't tell me you finally got tired of the Steel Samurai," Phoenix said, a little surprised. "I don't think I've even seen that episode."

"And you're fortunate," Miles stated. "That was a non-Manella episode - and widely considered to be the most embarrassingly terrible episode in the franchise."

"Really?"

Miles nodded. "'The Way to Edo' - its low point featured the Steel Samurai engaging in a 'jam session' with a bunch of ninja hippies."

"...Poor Will."

Soon they'd gone through all the channels again, and hadn't found anything more promising. Phoenix didn't really care - he was content to just lie there against Miles's side, listening with absolutely no interest to the golf highlights they'd stopped on. (How golf could have 'highlights' was beyond him, but...)

Eventually, he had to sit up again to let Miles shift positions. "I shouldn't have slept on the plane," Miles muttered to himself irritably.

"Not tired yet?"

"Not even close." Miles averted his eyes as he settled back down, looking awkward. "Are you ready to sleep?"

Phoenix shook his head. "I didn't get much sleep last night, so I slept some this afternoon."

"So we're both wide awake."

"Lucky us..." Phoenix didn't really mind, but Miles sure acted as if he did.

"And annoyingly," Miles continued, "I find that even watching sports shows is almost pleasant at the moment, because you're here."

"...Sorry?" Phoenix completely failed to look as if he was sorry.

Miles sniffed and turned the television off, setting the remote aside and wrapping his other arm around Phoenix as well. "Distraction isn't much use if it only makes me more desperate for something to distract me from how dull the distraction is," he muttered, sliding down further under the blankets with Phoenix. "Particularly when I'm already distracted."

Phoenix wondered if he should get up. Not that he wanted to. "...I don't want you to do anything you'll regret, Miles."

"And therein lies the problem - for all my discomfort," Miles admitted gruffly, shifting again to look Phoenix in the eye, "I can't say that I truly regret anything I've done for you."

Which was closer than Phoenix would have ever expected Miles to come to saying it outright. It didn't help with the matter of his own distraction, but regardless of what he wanted... "..._Would_ you, though? Honestly, Miles... I'm okay. I'm just happy you came, as a friend or anything else. I've been thinking about you and missing you all this time, yes, but I'm not desperate, and I understand there's a lot to process if we're going to do more than just lie around watching boring shows together."

"And I'm not sure if I've already processed it, or if I _am_ just desperate." Miles closed his eyes. "I'm trying not to be."

Phoenix hadn't seen him look so unhappy since... well, sometime around Gant's trial, at least. "Look - you came all this way for me," he pointed out. "Whatever you want, or don't want, I'm all right with it. I owe you."

Miles's eyes opened again, narrowed with anger. "You don't _owe_ me anything, Phoenix. It was my choice - which I don't regret - and the idea of you doing anything with me because you feel you _owe_ me is utterly repulsive."

"Okay, okay..." Phoenix held up a hand in surrender. "Bad wording. I'm sorry. I just meant I appreciate you coming here to be with me when I need you, and I want to make this easier on you in whatever way I can. I mean..." If Miles wasn't going to admit it, maybe he'd have to make it clearer. "I've loved you all along. ...I'd do anything for you."

Miles's breathing was harsh. "And if I hadn't foolishly discarded you after I saw those pictures? What would you have done, if you had had to choose between Gavin and myself?"

Phoenix wanted to say he would have chosen Miles. But realistically... "I don't know," he admitted. "I wanted to try to make things work out with you - I really did. But you were always so far away, and he was right there when I needed help..."

Miles scoffed quietly, and started to turn away. Phoenix caught his arm. "That's in the past, though, and now I know that choosing him, even if I'd had a choice, would have been the wrong choice. Right now, this night? I know who the better man is. There's no doubt in my mind, and I wish I had been smart enough not to make such a stupid mistake."

Miles hesitated for a moment, then freed himself to turn over regardless. Just like the way he used to sleep three years ago, he was all curled up into himself, almost fetal, face turned into the pillow. Phoenix wanted to do exactly what he'd done back then, toss an arm over him and curl up right behind him until they both relaxed into sleep. Instead, he made himself sit up. "Well... if you figure anything out before I fall asleep," he murmured, and was unable to keep himself from tracing a fingertip along the line of Miles's shoulder before he stood to go back to the other bed. "Just let me know."

Phoenix flipped the light off before he got under the covers, but he couldn't even manage to close his eyes, for all the adrenaline pumping through him. When he hadn't even been particularly sleepy, at that. He couldn't stop himself from repeating that conversation, wondering if he'd ruined everything by being honest, and what would have happened if he'd just told Miles what he knew _now_ instead of indulging the what-ifs...

He was so preoccupied with second-guessing that he didn't entirely connect the sound of rustling sheets with Miles getting out of his bed until the blankets on his own bed moved, and Miles slipped in beneath them, tense and hot and already hard.


	13. Chapter 13

Phoenix hadn't slept in a real bed for years, unless it was someone else's. The comfort of having enough room to roll over without landing on the floor went hand in hand with the comfort of having someone else there to prevent him from doing so, and he smiled as he slowly woke. The smile faltered a little as he woke enough to remember why he wanted nothing to do with the body lying beside him - then returned when he woke up enough to remember that it wasn't who he had become accustomed to, even if they'd somehow settled into a similar position rather than their usual. Miles had a habit of sleeping facing away from Phoenix, which Phoenix had never minded because they fit together so well when he curled up behind Miles, tucking his knees behind Miles's knees and wrapping an arm around his waist. This time Miles was on his back, head angled toward Phoenix's on the pillow, hand stretched out to rest on Phoenix's arm across his stomach. This meant Phoenix could see his face, and that was the best part.

Even though there had been no mistaking Miles's touch for Kristoph's in the dark, Phoenix had paused to turn the light back on, just so he could see him as well. This meant, too, that he could see the moments of uncertainty and self-loathing, and Miles could see his own, but it only served to prove that there were no secrets between them. After everything Phoenix had been through... Well, it took him a while to assure Miles that they were tears of _relief_. His face still felt dirty and swollen - not that the rest of him was any better - but in a sense, that was a relief too, after Kristoph's obsession with cleanliness.

Phoenix yawned, stretching out his fingers and curling his toes since he didn't otherwise want to move from his position, and glanced downward. Couldn't see the face of Miles's watch, and come to think of it, there were no guarantees it was set to local time. What he could make out of the digital clock on the nightstand, over tufts of messy silvered hair, indicated it was sometime between ten and eleven. He let out the breath he'd taken in with vague annoyance.

"Hmm?"

Phoenix inclined his head, meeting grey eyes. "Oh - good morning." He hadn't realized Miles was already awake too. Then, remembering what he'd suggested the day before... "..._Is_ it a good morning?"

"I'm not entirely sure if it's even a 'morning'," Miles observed. "I did cross a dozen time zones yesterday."

"How about the 'good' part?"

He squeezed Miles a little tighter and smiled, waiting for the response. Miles's hand tightened on his arm. "...The jury's still out on that."

"We don't have juries anymore," Phoenix teased him. "It's all up to the judge - so what does the judge say? ...Or is this going to last a whole three days?"

"Phoenix..." Despite the warning tone of voice, Phoenix couldn't help but smirk a little, and Miles sighed. "I'll need some time to think."

"I understand."

"I _don't_," Miles pointed out. "I can't puzzle out how you can act as if any of this is simple."

"The situation isn't simple," Phoenix acknowledged. "But the fact that waking up next to you makes me happy? That part's easy. So as far as I'm concerned, this is a fantastic morning."

Miles looked up into his smiling eyes, and at last offered a guarded smile of his own. "In that sense..."

He glanced at his watch as he sat up, and frowned vaguely at it. "We'll need to be checked out in a little over an hour, and both of us could stand to wash first."

Phoenix was tempted to suggest they share a shower, but he was still exhausted, and Miles _did_ need some time to think besides. "You go first," he offered. "I'm still half-asleep." Miles nodded, and headed for the end of the bed to look for his bathrobe, which had at some point slid right off onto the floor. Phoenix took the opportunity to lie back flat, close his eyes for a little longer, and enjoy his contentment. ...Obviously it wasn't going to last.

He'd gotten up to have a look around, pick up a little and assess any damages, by the time Miles returned. "I'm really amused," he commented, gesturing at the items he'd gathered on the nightstand, "that for all your talk about not being sure why you came here or what you wanted, you somehow brought all this. Or are these part of your usual travel accessory kit nowadays?"

Miles's cheeks might have been flushed already from the hot water, but he tucked the unused portion of the box of condoms and bottle of lubricant back into a plastic bag in his suitcase quickly. "I wasn't sure what would happen when I arrived," he muttered, "but I was aware of certain possibilities."

Phoenix grinned as he headed past him into the bathroom. When he got back, towelling off his hair vigorously, Miles was fully dressed, sitting in a chair by the window and regarding some paperwork or another, from which he looked up at once, meeting Phoenix's eyes. "Last night," he stated, "I told you that I regret nothing I've done for you."

Phoenix's towel slowed. "...Yeah?"

"Just so you'll know... I still don't."

Peeking out from under the towel, Phoenix smiled. "I'm glad."

Despite the lack of regret, Miles still didn't seem inclined to look at him casually, but kept his eyes elsewhere as they checked out of the hotel, walked to the train station, bought tickets for the journey up into the mountains. His gaze stayed on the horizon through the window as they found seats beside each other and settled in for the two-hour ride, speaking of the sorts of things they could speak about publicly - whereabouts, jobs, mutual acquaintances. Miles did look at Phoenix in disbelief when he told Miles what he was doing for a living now - and not only did he look again, but practically choked when Phoenix told him about Trucy's job. "Wright... you sent your young daughter to work in a _bar_?"

"Hey, it wasn't my idea," Phoenix protested. "At the time, we were having trouble making rent, and she took matters into her own hands. I tried to tell her no, but then she showed them what she could do... The Wonder Bar was willing to offer her more than _I_ was making, and she doesn't even think of it as work - it's just _fun_ for her. And I'm there with her every night, and there's never been a problem with drunks or perverts. In fact, if someone so much as heckled her, I bet everyone else in the crowd would help me beat their brains out - the regulars there _love_ her." Miles's accusatory look had turned thoughtful, and Phoenix looked at him, questioning. "...What?"

"You sound so proud when you speak of her." Miles smiled slightly. "Initially I felt bad that I'd left you alone to take care of a child, but it seems as though she's a bright spot, rather than a burden."

"Absolutely - if anything, she eases my burdens," Phoenix agreed. "She's the reason I'm not homeless now, honestly. I might have just kept on working in the supermarket and... disappeared into the spaces between the bunches of bananas, if she hadn't kept pushing me to do better."

"I find it difficult to believe that you could ever simply disappear," Miles remarked. "You're too strong for that."

"I didn't think so at the time. I'm starting to believe again, though."

"Good." Miles's eyes were on the approaching mountains once more. "I have an idea - something we should do when we get to Kurain."

"Hmm?"

"I'll explain once we've arrived. And after I've greeted Maya and Pearl, of course, and properly introduced myself to your daughter. ...I'm afraid I was too startled last time to do so appropriately."

Though his eyes were turned away, Phoenix felt a movement at his side, and closed his eyes with gratitude as Miles's hand closed over his own, half-hidden from view between them on the seat.

"I should mention," Miles added in an undertone, "that I... after the revelation, I considered it. The idea of being a parent... I had never even thought about it before, and I still don't know how I feel about it. But given my background - my own dysfunctional upbringing - I... I can't imagine I would make a good father."

"It's okay," Phoenix murmured. "You've got plenty of time to think about these kinds of things - I have to figure out what to do about Kristoph before I could even think of asking for any sort of commitment."

Miles made a soft humming sound, affirmative but not particularly happy. To be honest, Phoenix knew that what they'd spoken of, last night and this morning, had its roots in some kind of a commitment, regardless of whether either of them approved of the form it took.

A couple of hours later, having arrived, Phoenix showed Miles to the Fey manor, where Pearl and Maya were quite happy to see him again. Trucy held back a little bit, looking thoughtful, until Miles turned to her, offering his hand. "And you're Trucy. I apologize - the last time we met, I was under a bit of strain."

"Oh, I know," Trucy said easily, shaking his hand. "You were worried about Daddy - and that's okay, because so was I. You're Mr. Edgeworth...? Daddy told me you'd be coming."

He nodded, looking mildly taken aback. "...It's a pleasure."

If he was mildly taken aback already, he _jumped_ when there was suddenly a loud popping sound as Trucy produced an impressive array of flowers. "These are for you," she said, offering them. "Because you make Daddy happy."

"Er..." He could hardly argue that point with a little girl. "...Thank you," he said hesitantly, accepting the bouquet.

Watching the exchange with Maya, Phoenix blinked. "Okay, I told her not to bring so much of her magic stuff, and I don't even _recognize_ those flowers. Where did she get all those?"

"They look real," Maya observed, squinting at them a little. "...Actually, they look a lot like the ones that were in the neighbors' yard." Seeing Phoenix facepalm, Maya patted his shoulder. "I'll just tell them that a magician made them disappear!"

After they'd put the flowers in some water (without an explanation; Phoenix was definitely not going to tell Miles that he'd just received stolen goods), Miles asked if there was someplace that he and Phoenix and Maya could talk privately. Curious about what he had in mind, Phoenix and Maya made sure Trucy and Pearl were occupied, then retreated to the channeling chamber, closing the heavy door behind them.

The faint smell of incense still permeated the room as the three of them knelt on the straw mats - Miles more gracefully than Phoenix, to Phoenix's surprise. "You've got some kind of a plan, don't you?" Phoenix asked him.

Miles nodded. "I apologize, Maya, but I would like to ask a very large favor of you."

"Uh, sure," Maya replied, looking puzzled. "What is it?"

"I believe Phoenix needs some legal counsel at the moment - would you be willing to channel your sister?"

Phoenix and Maya exchanged disbelieving glances. "Uhm, Mr. Edgeworth? That's not a large favor at all. I kind of do it all the time," Maya pointed out.

Miles glanced away, slightly sheepish. "...I see. Well, asking someone to take a spirit into their body does not seem like a request one should make lightly." Phoenix had to grin a little - spirit channeling had become so ordinary for him, it never occurred to him that it really _was_ sort of strange. Come to think of it, given the DL-6 case... it was kind of impressive that Miles had come far enough that he would suggest it himself at all.

Before he could say anything reassuring about it, Maya was gone, and it was Mia sitting there in her purple robes instead. "It's been a while, Phoenix," she commented, smiling and crossing her arms over a suddenly larger chest. She eyed him curiously. "I see you've finally broken free of that fixation you had about dressing like a lawyer _all_ the time." Her eyes went to Miles. "...You, not so much. But at least you ditched the ruffles."

Miles was clearly too startled to be offended - and seemingly by more than one thing. "You haven't told her, Wright?"

"Uhm... I was going to this weekend, but then I called you, and..."

"Is this about Phoenix having been disbarred?" Mia interrupted. Both of the men stared. "Maya let me know," Mia explained, "but I admit, I _was_ wondering when you'd get up the nerve to tell me yourself."

"...Sorry," Phoenix muttered.

"It's nothing personal - he didn't tell me either," Miles put in. "I only found out when Detective Gumshoe passed along the news."

"I was too ashamed to tell anyone. And I _really_ didn't want to tell you," Phoenix admitted. "I felt like I'd ruined all the time and effort you put forth to help me out. I mean, now your office isn't even really an office anymore... much less the big law firm you always wanted it to be. ...I'm really sorry, Mia."

"Phoenix..." Mia sighed. "You didn't _actually_ forge evidence, did you?"

"Of course not! You know I wouldn't do something like that... don't you?" He sure hoped she did.

"Yes, I do," she assured him. "And therefore, it's not _you_ who ruined anything. So relax."

Phoenix took a deep breath, and tried. Meanwhile, Miles straightened, and quietly cleared his throat. "How much do you already know about the incident in which he was disbarred?"

"Not much at all - Maya just thought I should know, because he was so upset about it. She thought he might need my guidance, and didn't want it to come as a shock when he did. It was during the trial of a magician, who disappeared before the verdict and left a big mess?"

"Well, then..." Miles nodded. "I don't know all the details myself, but Phoenix has a theory about who may be responsible. Yet he refuses to go to the authorities about the matter, because he believes he has no case," he stated, tapping his finger on his own crossed arms. "Perhaps the two of us, both veterans of the courtroom, might be able to determine whether or not this is true, if he tells us what he knows."

So _that's_ what Miles's plan was. "...That might actually be a pretty good idea," Phoenix admitted. "But Mia, I should warn you... this gets kind of weird, and a little personal."

"More weird and personal than my dead boyfriend stabbing my mother, who was channeling your dead ex-girlfriend, who was trying to kill my sister to get revenge on me for having already died after getting her executed, in part for the apparent murder of the aforementioned dead boyfriend?"

"...Touché. Not so much weird and personal as a little, uh, _explicit_ at times, I guess."

"Oh...?" Mia raised an eyebrow. "I'm hardly an innocent young maiden, Phoenix. Go ahead and start at the beginning."

"Okay... I guess that would be the trial."

Phoenix told them about meeting Zak Gramarye, and Trucy giving him a mysterious and convenient piece of paper the following morning. The tip to the prosecutor's office, and Drew Misham's testimony. Zak's disappearance, the bar association's decision... Kristoph approaching him afterwards to console and encourage him. Taking in Trucy, Kristoph's admission that he'd been slightly infatuated with Phoenix for some time, Miles's unexpected visit and the resulting argument (Miles looked quite uncomfortable at that point, but said nothing), how he'd finally accepted Kristoph's support. The mishap with Trucy's gun, the Christmas gifts that came equipped with hidden cameras, Gumshoe's findings with the camera and the murder connected to it, the pictures that he determined to have been taken without his consent, the psyche-locks...

By the time he'd finished, Mia looked extremely serious. "...Kristoph Gavin sounds like a very dangerous man, Phoenix."

"Which is why," Miles stated, arms still crossed firmly, "he should contact the authorities at once. Even before I heard the whole story, it was obvious that something must be done."

"The problem with that," Mia pointed out, "is that there is no hard evidence. The most incriminating aspects of this story wouldn't hold up in court. The psyche-locks, for example - how exactly would you handle _that_ evidence in a case, Prosecutor Edgeworth?"

"..." Even if Miles had been reluctantly convinced that the magatama's powers were real, he wouldn't have had any luck proving it to a judge.

"There are the pictures taken without Phoenix's consent," Mia admitted, "but seeing as Phoenix admits that he would have slept with Kristoph that night if he hadn't passed out, and wasn't entirely sure at first that he didn't? The prosecution would have to prove that Phoenix was unconscious in those pictures, and unable to consent. Even if they managed that, there's no evidence that he was drugged, aside from Phoenix saying that there was something in the glass before Kristoph poured the wine - which he explained." She frowned. "To be honest... If it wasn't you accusing him, and if he was at all convincing, I would have taken his case. And I would have been quite sure I could win it - all but the sexual assault charges, which could go either way."

Phoenix looked to Miles, sure he would have a retort, something about a _skilled_ prosecutor handling it - but Miles just slammed his hand down with a thump on the straw mat, glaring at the floor furiously. "_Damn_ this broken legal system," he hissed. "The insistence on hard evidence is what led to the rise in forgeries and corruption, to people like Damon Gant taking justice into their own hands."

"But you never forged evidence," Phoenix pointed out. "Not knowingly. And you still have an incredible record. ...Knowing everything, all the details I told you," he began, "do you think _you_ could prosecute this case? With my help, working together? Like we did before?" He hadn't believed it was possible at first, but there was still a part of him that wanted to hope there was a way out...

Miles shook his head, and with a grimace, got to his feet. "No, Wright. ...Particularly as I'm no longer a prosecutor."

"Huh...? Hey!" Phoenix started to call after him as he started for the door, but Miles ignored him, opening it and slamming it behind him. Instinctively, Phoenix started to rise, then glanced back at Mia. He couldn't just run out on her. "What..."

Mia looked as surprised as he was. "I don't know... But you two really _haven't_ kept in touch, have you?"

Phoenix looked over his shoulder at the door, then back to Mia, uncertain of what to do. "...Okay, Phoenix - I'll make this quick," she told him. "Honestly? I think that at this stage of the game, you're right - you have no case to bring against Gavin. Common sense and an understanding of the magatama's power leads me to believe he's responsible for the cameras, and likely the death of Taylor and for Trucy's gun. And I suspect that whoever switched Trucy's gun is the person who forged the evidence that got you disbarred - she might be able to identify the person who told her to give it to you, after all."

"I was thinking the same thing," Phoenix agreed. "And what with Kristoph being so weird around her, and never stopping by except when she was in school for awhile..."

"So if I were in your place, I wouldn't confront him. You know I've already seen what can come of a confrontation like that."

Right... _Godot_ was what came of it. Phoenix nodded.

"But you can't be satisfied with this," Mia continued. "You need an escape route. And it looks like the only way to escape is to _make_ a case against him."

Given the turn of their conversation... "...You don't mean forging evidence for real?"

Mia shook her head. "You're already under suspicion. Even if it was something I would have advised - which I _definitely wouldn't_ \- they'd see through it in an instant. Don't even think about it, Phoenix. What you need to do is continue your own investigation, independent of the police, until you know you have enough that you can show people what you have already seen, and be sure that they'll see it too. I _know_ you can do this - you're good at investigating, and right now you have an alibi as to why you would spend so much time around him."

Phoenix nodded again. "I do have a few tricks up my sleeve, too..." Ema's fingerprint powder, Gumshoe's cooperation...

"The hardest part? Because you're under suspicion, whatever evidence you bring forth has to be _very_ decisive - something you _can't_ have forged."

"I understand."

"And that's my advice," Mia finished. "Feel free to ask my opinion any time - but right now, I think you should go after Edgeworth."

Phoenix sighed. "Thanks... Sorry to run out on you like this."

"It's okay. He wants to help you just as badly as I do - so take good care of him, all right? And let him take care of you, too."

"As long as it can be done without putting him in danger," Phoenix agreed. "I'll talk to you later?"

"Please do. If you can get this guy like you got Redd White, I'll forgive anything you might do to my office." She smirked a little. "Even if you let that boyfriend of yours paint it pink."

"It's not pink," Phoenix recited, as he had heard it recited many times in the past, "it's burgandy rose." He smiled at her. "Thanks again, Mia."

* * *

By the time Phoenix had emerged from the channeling chamber, Miles had a decent head start on him, much to his dismay. And then there was the fact that Miles wasn't exactly familiar with Kurain (and neither was Phoenix, actually, but he'd been there more times than Miles), so Phoenix had no idea if even _Miles_ knew where he might run off to in a huff. At first, all Phoenix could do was stand aimlessly by the door, looking around for any sort of clue. Not that he was seeing one, since Miles wasn't likely to leave footprints on the wood flooring. The last time they'd been in a fairly rustic, isolated environment and Miles was upset, he'd gone to the garden, Phoenix reasoned. And the garden wasn't far.

_...Well, what do you know - first try._ Phoenix knew even from a glance that there were no flowers _that_ color in the manor's garden.

Miles looked up at the sound of footsteps in the walkway, then dropped his gaze to the small pond at his feet once more, sullen. "Do you want to explain that?" Phoenix asked quietly, as he came to stand beside him. Miles made a soft, disdainful sound, and Phoenix rolled his eyes a little. "Yeah, right - I'm asking Miles Edgeworth whether he wants to explain something that's obviously bothering him," he teased. "Stupid me."

Miles gave him a longsuffering look, but Phoenix just smiled a little at him - the look lacked any sort of heat. "...On the contrary," Miles muttered, reaching a hand out, stroking a fingertip along one of the flowers he was pretending to be preoccupied with. "It's something I've been keeping back for some time. I admit, I thought of saying it in anger, while we were on the telephone all those months ago, but..."

At first Phoenix had been worried - if _he_ was no longer an attorney thanks to someone's meddling, what if someone had ruined Miles's career too? - but that wasn't the impression he was getting now. "What happened, Miles?"

"Nothing _happened_, Wright." He let the petals slide between his fingers as the flower sprung back into its place. "I gave up prosecuting to become a defense attorney."

That wasn't at _all_ what Phoenix was expecting to hear - but now that he had, it wasn't particularly surprising, and it definitely wasn't disappointing or upsetting. Slowly, a smile spread across his lips. "That's... Miles, that's great. I mean, I learned over time that being a prosecutor isn't necessarily a bad thing, but... well, your dad would have been so proud."

"I didn't do it for my father's sake," Miles stated, shoving his hands into his pockets, his expression dark. "He's been gone nearly twenty years now - my life is my own. ...That was what I felt when I made the decision over a year ago, and signed up for the examination - a mere formality, of course. I knew before I left the testing center that I'd passed effortlessly."

"And you didn't tell me?"

Miles shook his head, and he grimaced as if in pain. "I was waiting until it was finalized, until everything was in place. ...I was intending to ask if you would like to be my partner in a firm. And then, while I was still waiting for the results, I happened to speak to Gumshoe."

The smile completely vanished from Phoenix's face as he realized just how terrible his timing had been. "Miles... I had _no idea_... I mean, I thought you were just busy studying overseas..."

"I was - but I was making preparations to return. I was tying up loose ends in Europe, having what personal belongings might be useful sent back to my apartment here. After those arguments we had over the telephone, I returned, thinking to send them back to Europe after all - and do you know what I found waiting for me?" Miles removed one hand from his pocket, uncurling his fingers from around something small. Small, and round, and golden.

Phoenix was completely lost for words. He couldn't stop staring at the tiny badge, just like the one that had been stripped from him. It had been terrible enough to lose it, knowing even then that it was an end to not only his career, but life as he knew it - and seeing one there now, in Miles's hand, he realized that he'd lost more than he'd ever known.

"I haven't made use of it," Miles muttered, his voice as tight as his expression. "I didn't even want to wear it. The thought of seeing it there on my lapel, always reminding me of you... _you_, who should have been my partner. I put it away and went back to my work abroad. But for this trip, just in case I needed it..."

Phoenix was shaking. "I'm _so_ sorry, Miles." The idea that Miles had done this for him - for the two of them, so they could be together - and then all this had happened... His instinct was to flee in shame. But Miles had that same instinct, he knew (if Miles was more dignified about it), and he'd suppressed it at the airport to the point that he had _held_ Phoenix, which was something that didn't come easy to him in public even when circumstances were better.

It had always come easier for Phoenix, so he wrapped his arms tight around Miles, refusing to let go even when Miles stiffened in surprise. After a moment, there was a shaky little sigh in his ear, and Miles brought up his arms to hold him in return. "It's all right," Miles murmured. "My international work has been steady - and it's been quite interesting. I would have been content with it for some time yet, if I hadn't thought I had a better idea. Sometimes, I could make myself forget that I ever did."

"It's the best idea I've ever heard," Phoenix mumbled into his jacket. "Edgeworth and Wright, Attorneys at Law..."

"Or Wright and Edgeworth. As defense goes, you would have been the bigger name by far."

"Not for long, with you as competition. _Friendly_ competition, this time." Phoenix's heart felt sick. "It would have been _perfect_, Miles... I've never even _dreamed_ anything I wanted so badly."

"That was why I couldn't tell you. Telling you before you lost your badge would have ruined the surprise... telling you after would have been kicking you while you were down. And then I couldn't speak to you at all."

"If you had..." Phoenix practically choked at the thought. "If you'd told me, when everything went wrong between us..."

"As I said, I thought about it. Solely because I knew how much it would hurt you." Miles squeezed him tighter. "But I knew you weren't _trying_ to hurt me, and I just couldn't bring myself to-" He was silenced by Phoenix's lips pressed against his, abruptly and fiercely, and his own wordless reply was just as fierce.

It continued for some time, Phoenix's fingers wound through Miles's hair, Miles's hands clutching at the back of Phoenix's shirt, until they were interrupted by a small, stifled giggle. Phoenix's heart had swelled up to the point of overflowing, like a balloon; that sound was like sticking a pin in it, and he slowly drew back and turned his head to look, dreading what he knew he would see. He _knew_ that giggle.

"Don't worry," Trucy assured them, peeking out between the posts of the wooden railing along the walkway. "I won't tell Maya you started without her."

"W-w... What?!" Phoenix sputtered, as Miles removed his hands with a cough, stepping back - and nearly ending up in the pond. "Trucy..."

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be kissing like that without a mommy present," Trucy said with a confident nod. "That's what Mommy told my old Daddy and Uncle Valant, anyway. Not that she looked too mad."

"..." That was way more information than Phoenix wanted to know.

"So hey," Trucy said companionably, addressing Miles. "If you've got that kind of a relationship with my new daddy, does that make you my new uncle?"

"Uh... Er, that is, well..."

Miles looked to Phoenix for help, and Phoenix shrugged. "Uhm, I don't know... do you _want_ to be her uncle?"

"I suppose I... I wouldn't _object_ to her calling me uncle..." Miles seemed more concerned with straightening his clothes, at the moment. "I suppose it's a way of easing into parenthood," he added in an undertone, and Phoenix grinned.

"Yay - so now I have a new uncle, too!" Trucy chirped. "And since Maya said your friends call you Edgey, you can be my Uncle Edgey!"

Phoenix had to laugh at the look on Miles's face. "Uncle E... There's only _one_ person who calls me that," Miles protested, "and he's hardly a friend."

"Well, where do you think Maya and Pearls calling me 'Nick' originated?" Phoenix pointed out. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Phoenix cracked up even harder as Trucy whooped. "Woohoo! Uncle Edgey!" she cheered, running off towards the manor again.

"...Wright?"

"Kind of killed the mood, but..." Phoenix mused. "What, Miles?"

"What the _hell_ was going on behind the scenes in Troupe Gramarye?"

"I don't know, and I _really_ hope that investigating this incident doesn't mean I'm going to find anything else surprising."

Miles still looked thoroughly horrified. "...Uncle _Edgey_..."

"At least you're not 'Mommy'," Phoenix pointed out, and got a glare in response. "And boy, am I glad it was Trucy who saw us, and not Pearls. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be so understanding."

"Hmph." Miles pulled himself together somewhat, looking off after her. "...Anyhow... what incident are you investigating, exactly?"

"The forged evidence, and everything that came after it. Mia thinks I shouldn't voice my suspicions just yet, but keep gathering evidence until I have proof that would hold up in the courtroom. I've got Gumshoe to help me out-"

"I'll speak to him when we get back to the city," Miles stated. "And I'll let him know that he's to do as you request."

Phoenix wondered if Miles had forgotten that he had no authority over Gumshoe anymore... but Gumshoe idolized the guy - it didn't really matter if Miles wasn't a prosecutor anymore. "And there are some things I can do on my own," he added. "I can dust for prints myself, and then all I need is a little assistance from Gumshoe with figuring out whose they are."

"Not that I expect _that_ to be terribly useful, if Gavin has been careful not to leave fingerprints so far," Miles pointed out.

"Maybe not, but maybe I can find connections... And then maybe, like Mia suggested, I can make people see what I see. I never would have found out about Taylor's death and its connection to the whole thing if not for fingerprinting the camera..." Phoenix paused abruptly. _...Make them see what I see, huh...?_

Miles regarded him oddly. "What is it?"

"...I just got an idea." It would have to wait until he got back home, though.

"I'd ask what sort of crazy scheme you might be imagining," Miles remarked, "but knowing you, it should be a _brilliant_ crazy scheme."

"I sure hope so." Phoenix's eyes had wandered off to the clouds, but he looked back at Miles seriously. "Miles... if I manage to solve this puzzle, if I can prove that I was set up... I might be able to get my badge back."

"A reasonable deduction."

"If I can do that..." Phoenix bit his lip. "...Hold onto yours, okay? I really want to see those 'Edgeworth and Wright Law Firm' letterheads and business cards and so on."

Miles nodded; his left hand was back in his pocket, and Phoenix could see it was closed around something, but this time he didn't look bitter. "So do I," Miles agreed softly.


	14. Chapter 14

Pleasant as the fantasies were, reality forced its way back quickly enough when Maya caught up with them, curious about what they'd been discussing with Mia. But they'd have to make it quick, she pointed out, if they were going to be on the last bus out of Kurain as planned.

Phoenix had completely forgotten, thanks to Miles flying in - they'd only planned for three days off. Trucy had to get back to school the next morning, and he had to be at work in the afternoon. Which meant, he realized with a stricken look at Miles, their time together was almost up - after less than twenty-four hours, even though he had gotten in early. And he'd had Miles fly all the way back for just that? (Not that he didn't think it was more than worth it, but...)

Miles, better acquainted with travelling and calculating arrival times than Phoenix, calmly pointed out that the first bus from Kurain left early the next morning. If they stayed overnight and took the first bus to the train station, they could be home well before noon; Trucy would miss only an hour or so of school, and Phoenix would have plenty of time to get to the club. That is, he added with a smirk, if Phoenix was any better at getting up early than he used to be...

So that was settled. The only question then, Maya asked with a twinkle in her eye, was how many beds she should make up for the night. ...Since Trucy had already seen them basically making out, Phoenix supposed it didn't matter if he and Miles shared a bedroll (he left it unspoken that this would be acceptable only if they didn't get up to anything serious - Miles would be mortified at the thought of doing anything within earshot of anyone else anyway). Miles didn't seem so comfortable with the idea, and he didn't look any happier when Phoenix pointed out she'd seen him and _Kristoph_ sharing a bed, although the deepening frown seemed more determined than anything. Phoenix wondered if he'd brought it up because he knew subconsciously it was needling Miles towards agreement, and that wasn't a thought he liked. Admittedly he was being a little selfish, wanting just one more night that he could fall asleep with Miles in his arms... but he was pretty sure Miles wanted the same thing. And after all they'd been through, they deserved that much.

One more thing to take care of, though, and he took Trucy aside before dinner. "Trucy..." he began, feeling slightly awkward, and not very pleased with himself for having to do this, "about what you saw earlier..."

"It's okay," she assured him. "I didn't tell Maya."

"Er, Maya already knows. But-"

She cocked her head curiously. "Uh oh... Did you get in trouble, Daddy?"

He couldn't help but smile. "No, it's okay. But I'm glad to hear you can keep it a secret. Because Trucy - the relationship that Mi... er, that Uncle Edgey and I have," he corrected himself - best to keep it at her level - "is a secret. In fact, it's best you don't tell anyone that you even met him, or that you call him 'uncle'. And _especially_ don't mention him in front of Mr. Gavin."

Trucy looked puzzled. "...A secret?"

"Yeah. And I mean a _big_ secret - like how your other daddy disappeared from the courthouse. That's how big this secret is." After talking it over with a couple of witnesses, he had a feeling he knew how it was done - and was almost positive that _she_ did.

"How is a relationship _anything like_ a disappearing act?"

...Sadly, he supposed she'd come to understand that all too well when she was older, if she grew up as cute as she was now. "Uhm, let's just say that Uncle Edgey and I have a little magic trick in mind too."

"He's a magician too?" She looked dubious. "What kind of trick?"

Wishful thinking prompted Phoenix's answer. "We're going to turn Mr. Gavin into something."

"Really?" Trucy brightened. "What?"

Realistically? "...A convict."

"What's that?"

Phoenix smiled. "Oh, you'll find out when we're done. ...It may take a while to get this trick right, though, so you'll have to keep it under wraps until I say it's okay. Got it?"

"Well, when you put it that way," she agreed with a grin. "Your secret's safe with me!" Phoenix knew he could trust her to follow through on this - even if she was a kid, she still hadn't let it slip how some of _her_ magic tricks worked, even to him.

In the meantime, Phoenix was glad to be able to have the extra evening to just sit and relax with everyone, since he hadn't exactly had much chance to do so yet. Having Miles there made it even better, of course. For a few hours, he could forget about all the things that had gone wrong in his life over the last year, and take comfort in all the things he hadn't lost - against all odds - and the one good thing that had come out of the trial. All in one place, all at the same time.

Before the sun had risen the next morning, Miles was nudging him awake - it was time to get ready to catch the early bus. Pearl was already awake, and had packed up some snacks for them to have for breakfast on the train, and Maya made a brief, sleepy appearance to tell them all goodbye while Phoenix was leading a half-asleep Trucy by the hand to the door - and then asked Miles to stay there for a second, because she wanted to ask him something.

"What did Maya want?" Phoenix asked when he emerged, joining them and a few other early risers at the bus stop.

"She had an idea about how you and I could stay in touch," Miles explained. "A rather good one, at that. Contacting you at your office isn't a wise thing to do at this point, and calling your cell phone is dangerous - you could be anywhere when it rings, and there's the possibility of Gavin going over your call history."

Phoenix nodded reluctantly. "I figured I'd just use public phones. Just... I can't use them too much. If I'm going out all the time to make phone calls, when I have two perfectly functioning phones..."

"And we can't say that he wouldn't be checking your mail, either," Miles pointed out. "However, if he sees that a letter was postmarked near Kurain, and the return address is Maya..."

"She's smart when she wants to be," Phoenix observed. "Mostly when it involves being sneaky. ...So you'll write me?"

Miles nodded. "And if you want to write back, send it to her first."

"It's a deal."

Miles looked satisfied, but only for a moment before he went back to glowering. "I still hate this, Phoenix. I hate the thought that you'll be putting yourself in danger, and I hate that you'll be with _him_."

"I know," Phoenix agreed. "I hate it too."

"But if you're intent on this course of action," Miles continued, "I'll do what I can to help."

"I really appreciate it," Phoenix told him. "Especially since I know how much I'd hate it if it were you."

Miles folded his arms, looking off into the valleys below Kurain, deeply shadowed by the rising sun. "I'm going to stay in the city for a few days, since I came all this way. Perhaps I'll stay at Franziska's - I think it best if I keep a low profile. After all, Gavin's obviously already aware of my existence."

Phoenix shivered, from more than the chilly mountain morning air. "Honestly, I don't want you mixed up in this, for exactly that reason."

"If you insist on being mixed up in it yourself," Miles told him, "then you'll have to accept that I will be too. Not only _would_ you do the same for me - you _have_."

"...Fair enough," Phoenix admitted with a smile, tilting his head up towards Miles. He would have stood to kiss him, if not for Trucy having dozed off again against his side.

Phoenix dozed off too, once they were on the train, and woke up to find Trucy and Miles speaking quietly, smiling over the treats Pearl had packed for them. Phoenix was so glad to see that, he didn't even care that they hadn't left a whole lot of food for him.

When the train reached the station, Trucy had fully woken up and was in the center aisle, showing the entire car that she could tear up a piece of paper that another passenger had written a message on in his own handwriting and put it back together again with magic (she could - Phoenix didn't know _how_). "That's great, honey," he told her, reaching for her hand to draw her closer as other passengers clapped for his little prodigy, and then started to stand to disembark. "I bet no other train's been entertained by a professional magician."

"I would think not," Miles agreed, reaching for the handle of his own luggage and pulling it closer. "Since we have more baggage than most of these commuters, shall we wait until the exits clear?"

"Good call," Phoenix agreed, drawing his and Trucy's bags closer to his knees. ...Besides, he kind of wanted just a couple more minutes with Miles, before it was back to watching every step he made. Once they were off the train, he thought idly, looking out the window, he was going to give Miles a great big goodbye hug...

...Or not. "Miles, we've got a problem."

At the abrupt serious tone, Miles frowned. "What is it?"

"He's out there." When Miles started to lean forward, Phoenix shook his head quickly. "Don't get too close - he might see you." Not that Kristoph was scanning the windows of the train at that point, but the passengers stepping off. "I just hope he hasn't already."

"Daddy, what's going on?" Phoenix looked down to see Trucy looking very worried. "Why'd you and Uncle Edgey get so scared all of a sudden?"

Miles swore mildly under his breath. Phoenix decided this wasn't the best time to lecture him on appropriate language in front of a child, and hugged her. "It's okay... we're just going to have to say goodbye to him a little sooner than I thought."

"Phoenix..." Miles murmured, frustrated.

After a glance out the window to make sure Kristoph wasn't looking their direction, Phoenix embraced him quickly, gave him an all-too-brief kiss. "Trucy and I will go first and distract him," he said, drawing back. "You follow when we've got him away, and get out of here _fast_."

Miles nodded, his hands lingering on Phoenix's waist. "I hope to see the two of you again soon," he said, as they gathered up their things.

"We'll at least write," Phoenix told him.

"Bye, Uncle Edgey..."

Trucy still looked worried, and Phoenix squeezed her hand as he tugged her to her feet. "Come on, sweetie - we're going to help him do a disappearing act, okay?"

She nodded seriously, a determined look on her face. "Got it."

Kristoph was still watching the doors to the train, and smiled when they appeared, waving over the crowd. "Well, _this_ is a surprise," Phoenix called to him as they approached. "What are you doing here?"

"I tried calling last night, to see if you'd made it home safely," Kristoph explained, with a pleasant smile that Phoenix currently wanted to punch. "There are only so many trains, and to get to work on time today..."

"Very perceptive." And stalkerish. "Yeah, I've got to be to work, and Trucy's already going to be late for school..."

"Why didn't you take last night's train?" Kristoph inquired.

Phoenix shrugged. "We just lost track of time, I guess - by the time we realized how late it was, the last bus had left for the train station."

"How very like you," Kristoph murmured with amusement. "As far as getting Trucy to school goes, we could take my car."

"That sounds good... right, Trucy?" Phoenix asked, looking down to her.

She gave Kristoph a big smile. "It sounds great, Mr. Gavin! Can we go now?" Phoenix was so _very_ glad he could count on her to be sneaky and deceptive. ...Well, he wasn't going to like knowing what she was capable of once she got to be a little older, probably...

"Ah, you've only just gotten in," Kristoph observed. "Perhaps you'd want to stretch your legs a bit first, after the long ride?"

Phoenix was about to say they were just fine, when Trucy nudged him, the same way she did during card games. Kristoph was still eyeing the open doors to the train, Phoenix realized, and the crowds were thinning. Miles was going to be stuck there if he didn't do something...

"...Well, it _might_ be nice to stand up for a little while," Phoenix said casually. "As long as it doesn't prevent me from doing something I've been wanting to do for the last three days."

"Oh?" Kristoph raised an eyebrow - and his eyes widened as Phoenix abruptly launched himself at him, throwing his arms around Kristoph's neck with such a forceful hug that Kristoph stumbled, knocked off balance.

He took a few steps back to catch himself as Phoenix pressed his lips against Kristoph's. When Phoenix opened his eyes, he smiled honestly - he'd managed to turn Kristoph enough that he was no longer looking directly at the train. "I missed you..."

Though obviously taken off guard, Kristoph managed an answering smile. "I missed you too."

"Yeah, it's kind of obvious," Phoenix said, still practically hanging off his neck so he couldn't move. "I mean, if you came here to meet me and everything..." He saw a flash of that distinctive red out of the corner of his eye, in the direction of the train, and he made himself look down in the opposite direction. Thank goodness for Trucy's magician's instinct - she was already there. "Isn't that nice of him, Trucy?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Mr. Gavin!"

When Kristoph glanced down at her, Phoenix leaned his head against Kristoph's shoulder, placing it between Kristoph and the train. Which gave him a pretty good view of the stony look on Miles's face as he watched the two of them, then turned quickly away, starting for the exit.

Phoenix hoped his sigh could be taken as a happy one. "I could stay like this for awhile," he said, as Miles vanished into the crowd, "but I suppose we really do need to get Trucy to school."

"Yep, sure do!" Trucy agreed. "And we don't even need to go home first and make a lunch, since Pearl sent us home with food already."

"Er, I thought that was supposed to be my breakfast..." Phoenix muttered.

Kristoph drew back, shaking his head. "If there are leftovers, why not let Trucy go ahead and have them? I'll take you out to breakfast before work." That was a reasonable solution. Which meant that unfortunately, Phoenix couldn't think of a reason to refuse it.

* * *

After they'd stopped at Trucy's school, and Phoenix had gone to the office to explain why she was late, he found himself sitting in an old-fashioned diner style restaurant, across the booth from Kristoph. It seemed wrong to be a place where he should be dining with Kristoph - too cheerful and warm and friendly and brightly lit. Possibly he should have suggested they just head to the Borscht Bowl a little early, since its atmosphere was much more in tune with how Phoenix felt, but the breakfast menu there left a lot to be desired.

"So tell me, did you enjoy your vacation?" Kristoph asked as he looked over the menu. "Are you feeling more relaxed now?"

"I don't know... I'm still kind of wound up after the long trip back." Phoenix raised his own menu, though he wasn't sure he had much appetite. He was far too irritated with Kristoph's interference, and depressed over having to leave Miles again besides. "But I had a great time while I was there."

"I'm glad to hear it. You've been acting a bit odd recently, you know."

"Heh. Sorry. I guess I've just had a lot on my mind."

"Such as...?"

"Just the usual. Where life's taken me..." The menu made a nice shield from Kristoph's eyes. "...Where it might take me in the future... What do I really want, have I made the right decisions... That kind of thing."

"You still sound distant."

And Kristoph sounded very direct. Phoenix lowered the menu to see him looking serious. "...Sorry," Phoenix muttered. "This whole 'not being a lawyer anymore' thing is finally catching up with me. At first there were all these distractions, between you and Trucy and trying to find a new job. But now that things are pretty stable, I have to ask myself - is this the kind of life that could satisfy me?" That, he felt, was a good response. Thank goodness he'd taken an improv course when he was a theater major.

"And now that you've asked yourself," Kristoph inquired, "have you found any answers?"

Phoenix shook his head. "All I can say is that Trucy makes me happy, and you make me happy, and my friends make me happy. As for the rest of my life... I don't know if I just haven't adjusted yet, or I don't know what I want to do, or if I'm really _not_ satisfied being anything other than a lawyer." Which aside from the part about Trucy and his friends was entirely untrue, especially after what Miles had told him about his plan to become partners. At least it gave him an excuse if Kristoph continued to take note of his moodiness.

"Perhaps you might be satisfied being a pianist," Kristoph suggested mildly, "if you became a better pianist."

Phoenix smiled, a little sheepish. Yes, wouldn't Kristoph like that, for him to take that cover off the piano... "I should practice more than I do. But I still don't think I'd be able to make it a career, even if that's what I thought I wanted."

"You don't?"

Phoenix shook his head. "I only had a couple months of lessons as a kid. That was enough to tell me I just wasn't cut out to be a musician. But you know," he admitted, "the poker's not bad."

Kristoph chuckled. "What do you want?"

"Like I've been saying," Phoenix sighed, "I really don't know."

"I mean for breakfast." Kristoph tapped the menu. "We've been going over the menus for some time now."

Phoenix still hadn't even actually looked at it. "...I don't know about that either."

"Ham and eggs?" Kristoph suggested. "That's what I'm intending to order. And I'll have to ask about what variety of tea they might serve..."

Miles had always been a tea snob - it was one of the few things he and Kristoph had in common, and that similarity had bothered Phoenix in the past. After spending a whole day with Miles, after all this time, and then having to be separated again without a chance to properly say goodbye... Being reminded left Phoenix even more depressed. "I'm not really hungry, actually."

"I've heard that mountain air is good for the appetite," Kristoph remarked. "City air must be a disappointment afterwards. Would you care to share my breakfast, then? The portions here are large enough that I can certainly spare a bit."

"Sure... That's a good idea, thanks." Except that after the food arrived, seeing Kristoph smile kindly and hold out a fork to offer him the first bite... Well, it left him feeling a little queasy. He was going to have to get over that, because it wasn't like he could just stop ever eating around Kristoph, but for the time being he had the excuse of a little residual motion sickness from the train to get out of it.

Unfortunately, that meant he sat there across from Kristoph, smelling what smelled like an absolutely delicious breakfast, and didn't have a single bite. He just listened to Kristoph talk, telling him about goings-on at the courthouse and the office, and wondered again if _somehow_ he could be mistaken, because from all appearances Kristoph was acting perfectly friendly.

And when he was finished with breakfast, and had dropped Phoenix off at his office to get ready for his shift, Phoenix had to admit that he'd never so much as implied that there was an ulterior motive for his having met them at the station.

Apparently, he'd thought of a way around that.

* * *

The next day, when there was a knock on Phoenix's door, it was so that Kristoph could tell him some intriguing news that was not in fact news at all. "It seems Miles Edgeworth is back in town," Kristoph remarked, settling down on one of the couches in the office.

Phoenix hoped his pause could be taken as surprise rather than _fear_. "...Is he now."

"I take it you weren't aware?"

"No," Phoenix replied, settling down at his desk. He was getting better at not freaking out upon revelations that made him fear for his life, but a little extra steadiness was appreciated. And Kristoph couldn't sit next to him if he was sitting in an office chair, which was an added bonus. "I haven't spoken to him in months. I mean, he asked me not to."

"That was why I thought to inform you. I thought," Kristoph suggested, "that you might welcome the opportunity for resolution."

Phoenix shook his head firmly. "Okay, so I still think about him sometimes," he acknowledged. "But Kristoph - it's not like I'm sitting around pining after him, either."

"You've never had occasion to put things to rest once and for all, to come to terms with the end of your relationship," Kristoph reminded him gently. "Wouldn't it be good for both of you to have a little chat - to put the final nails in the coffin?"

Phoenix really, really didn't like Kristoph's choice of metaphor. "I don't have anything to say to him," he stated, folding his arms, and trying to change the subject. "How'd you find out, anyway?"

"It seems he was spotted downtown at the precinct this morning - though it's a bit strange, seeing as he resigned as a prosecutor some time back."

Aware of the small stone shape in his pocket, Phoenix inwardly braced himself for the appearance of psyche-locks - but nothing happened. Of course, Kristoph wasn't necessarily lying about having heard that he was at the precinct earlier today, even if he had found out himself beforehand. So much for carrying the magatama with him all the time from now on - stupid Kristoph and his not-actually-lying.

Kristoph regarded him curiously. "You hadn't heard?"

Well, that was one way to explain his silence. "...I hadn't. When did he resign?"

"Last summer, from what I've been told. Which, if I have times and dates down correctly, was _before_ the two of you went your separate ways. And yet he didn't tell you?"

Slowly, Phoenix shook his head. "No... he didn't." _Because it was supposed to be a surprise._

"Hmm... He truly didn't tell even you that he'd changed careers?"

"He never said a word."

"I can't help but wonder, then," Kristoph remarked, casually crossing his legs, "what else he never told you about."

Phoenix closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. For a different reason than Kristoph would assume, of course. "...I see your point."

"Phoenix..." Phoenix heard Kristoph stand, and footsteps approached the desk. "Are you sure you don't want resolution? It's obvious you've never quite gotten over him."

"I think it's best if I don't go anywhere near him," Phoenix said, his voice tight. This was maddening. He had an excuse to spend time with Miles before he left again, he'd been given _permission_ \- but he didn't dare. If Kristoph was suggesting it, then he had some sort of intent behind a meeting between them. If Phoenix agreed to it, he was putting both himself and Miles at risk.

"I'll admit," Kristoph said, "that I don't ask only for your sake. I _worry_ sometimes, Phoenix, about your business with Edgeworth having been left unresolved all this time. After all, it leaves open the possibility that someday the two of you might come to terms... and then what would become of me?"

Phoenix opened his eyes, looking up at a calm but very serious Kristoph. "Why would you suggest that I go to him now, then?" Phoenix asked.

"If it is to be, I would rather know sooner than later."

He honestly _looked_ as if he was concerned about Phoenix leaving him. Not only that, but there were still no psyche-locks. But then, he'd never said _why_ he'd rather know right away, and... Phoenix shook his head, trying to shake off the creeping sensation of guilt. It was ridiculous. "Kristoph... it's been a long time. Even if Miles and I could finally come to an understanding _now_-"

The tip of a finger touched his face, stroked the underside of his chin, tilting it further upwards. Phoenix's skin crawled. "Look at me, Phoenix," Kristoph murmured, leaning over the desk. "Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you don't want to see him...?"

Phoenix said nothing right away, but only stared up at Kristoph and his ever-present, nearly patronizing calm. Kristoph's fingers stroked along his jaw, either soothing or infuriating. "I'll tell you," he said finally, "that it doesn't matter whether I want to see him or not. I won't take the chance. You've been good to me-" and it wasn't a lie, for in many ways Kristoph _had_ "-and you deserve better than to have me go and jeopardize everything just because I never learned how to fall _out_ of love. There are a lot of people I'll always care for, regardless of what happens between us, and he's one of them."

Kristoph's hand cupped his cheek gently. "And I?"

Phoenix had no choice, though what he really wanted to do was turn his head and bite those gentle fingers right off. "Of course you are."

"...I'm glad." Those long fingers slid back to his ear, to the back of his neck, as Kristoph bent closer to kiss him lightly. "I've grown quite accustomed to having you around."

Phoenix tried not to let the bitterness show in his quiet laugh. "Good, because you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

Kristoph smiled that fond, sunny smile of his again, only inches from Phoenix's face. Maybe that was why it seemed so blinding. "It's good to know that I can trust you," Kristoph remarked.

Phoenix hated this. He knew it was all a front, some kind of mind game, but Kristoph looked so sincere, he couldn't help but doubt. "Do you really?" he asked honestly. "I'm not sure _I_ trust myself."

Kristoph nodded. "I trust you," he repeated.

Immediately Phoenix felt the familiar twist of energies, the air thickening and the chains clanking, as five locks appeared in the space between himself and Kristoph.

A liar, then, but no fool. Not that Phoenix could have called him on it - he himself was the same at the moment. He was reminded, however, that he had a letter to write, and a favor to ask.


	15. Chapter 15

Phoenix had to be careful what he did in his apartment. After all, it could be that there were more cameras he hadn't dealt with - his every move could potentially be caught on video. Well, he was about to turn that right back around on Kristoph - he just... had something else he wanted to do first.

_You're not even gone yet, you're just a couple of miles away as I write this, and I miss you already. I miss you so much, it's like an ache in my chest. In fact, I think that ache was there all along, and I'd just gotten used to it until you made it disappear for a couple of days._

It was like one of his poker games; Phoenix's face remained neutral as he sat at his desk, writing not the letter he'd settled down to write, but a letter he couldn't keep himself from writing once he'd finished the first. They could go in the same envelope, so that Maya could forward them both at once, and Phoenix checked one of the holiday cards he'd gotten back in December to make sure he knew where to direct the other. Maya wouldn't have that contact information herself, after all - they'd never even met.

Kristoph saw him slip the single envelope in the mail - a thank you note from himself and Trucy for a relaxing vacation, Phoenix said with a smile - and merely nodded. Pleasantries towards Maya Fey were of no concern to him.

Phoenix wasn't sure which reply he was more anxious for until the first arrived - a small, slim package - and then he realized he was a little disappointed. But then, when he opened it out in the hall by the mailbox and read the note of explanation, he couldn't help grinning widely. It wasn't quite what he'd expected, but it might actually work out even better.

The next evening, when Kristoph came by the Borscht Bowl after work, he peered in disbelief at the latest addition to Phoenix's ensemble. "...An interesting choice of fashion accessories for a grown man," he remarked.

"The hat already wasn't up to your standards," Phoenix pointed out. "At least I'm not desecrating the more acceptable parts of my wardrobe, right?"

Kristoph smirked slightly. "When did I ever say that any part of your current wardrobe was acceptable?" he teased.

Phoenix just shrugged, reaching up to scratch his head through the hat - and in the process, touching something inside. "This from a guy who wears periwinkle..."

"So what _is_ this, anyway?" Kristoph inquired, reaching over to touch the round pin. Phoenix tried not to let his sudden anxiety show - if Kristoph figured out what it was, he was in deep trouble. "Another gift from Trucy?"

"Her class was making buttons in art the other day," Phoenix lied. "Don't ask me why she gave me this one in particular - maybe I've gotten too jaded about her tricks, living with her, and she wanted to see a surprised face every time she shows me a new one."

"What a strange little girl..." Kristoph smiled regardless. "You may be going a bit too far with the 'doting father' routine, you know."

"I might agree," Phoenix replied, his pride entirely earnest, "if it were a 'routine' at all. But I really _am_ a doting father."

Ema had told him that it was actually fortunate that Mia's computer was so old and junky - using an operating system that had been obsolete for years meant that most modern software couldn't run on it, including programs that might have been used to spy on what he was using the computer for. And as for what he _was_ using the computer for, she knew where to get old versions of programs that should still run on the OS, if slowly. Once Phoenix had gotten home that night, he removed the hat, put on some headphones, and started one of them.

It was just as Ema had said. After an almost painfully slow loading period, there was Kristoph, leaning closer as his fingers reached out to just below the camera's view. _"So what is this, anyway?"_ came the slightly crackly voice through the headphones.

Phoenix nodded, satisfied with the trial run. Just like Mia had said - now other people could see exactly what he saw. It was just a matter of figuring out what exactly they needed to see, and how to make Kristoph show it. In the meantime, there were other people he could gather evidence from.

He knew where to find Meekins. The police were still keeping an eye on Valant Gramarye, seeing as the case had never been resolved, and Gumshoe - obeying Edgeworth's instructions as he always had - arranged for a brief questioning session when Phoenix asked. Drew Misham wasn't going anywhere. He considered asking Klavier Gavin for more information about the tip the prosecutor's office had received regarding the evidence, but decided it was too risky, seeing as he was Kristoph's brother. Even if he wasn't involved directly, which was possible, he wouldn't let anything out that could be used against Kristoph, and he might even tell Kristoph that he'd been asked about that case.

Still, Phoenix couldn't seem to find just the right combination of questions and correlating evidence to get an absolute answer as to who had commissioned the forged notebook page, or who had really killed Magnifi Gramarye, or precisely what part Kristoph Gavin played in any of it. There were a few useful revelations, yes - and a particularly surprising one made him sure he was close to solving the mystery. Between Trucy and Pearl, Phoenix supposed he was all right at talking to children - and possibly he had a knack in particular with eccentric, precocious ones, which meant that he should do fine with Drew's daughter Vera, who had _actually_ forged the page he'd presented in court.

...Or maybe not. Vera was painfully shy, fearful of strangers, just as her father had said. But then, Drew had also said she'd been openly talking and laughing with the client. It was only a vague memory of a meaningless conversation, months ago that made him ask if she was a fan of Troupe Gramarye. Her sudden smile and enthusiasm on the subject made his heart sink - he was _certain_ now that it had been Kristoph she'd met, even if she couldn't tell him for sure what the man had looked like, and she wouldn't relinquish the bottle of nail polish so that Phoenix could test it for fingerprints. In fact, she wouldn't even admit, no matter how Phoenix pressed the subject, that her client had given it to her - but Phoenix knew that little bottle. He'd seen it on the coffee table, on the desk, in the headboard of the bed.

But, well, it wasn't _hard evidence_. He could have bought Ariadoney polish himself, if he'd wanted to spend the money. (Or if he wanted to buy nail polish.) Even if she'd admitted that it was from the client, it wouldn't have proven a thing, and she refused to talk at all about the client or the charm he'd given her, lest her charm's "spell" be broken. But there were other ways to make it clear, without her saying it outright.

"This man," Phoenix told her, holding up a picture of Kristoph so that the camera in his hat could see it before turning it towards her, "is a friend of mine. Know him?"

The startled look on her face, her repeated statements that she'd promised not to talk about the client, made it obvious. Still, she insisted that she couldn't talk, or her charm would stop working. Phoenix was disgusted by the way Vera's mysterious client had played on her fears - having a daughter himself, he admitted, made him more affected by people doing bad things to little girls. And to think, he'd let Kristoph be alone with Trucy...

But then she finally said something about her client that left him puzzled. "I think..." she said seriously, "...they might be the devil."

"...Huh?"

"Or maybe..." Vera pondered, "an angel."

With Kristoph's long blond hair and normally serene expression, _that_ description made sense. The other, though, made Phoenix wonder if he was on the wrong track after all. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I saw it," Vera told him. "Or I _think_ I saw it, when they gave me this." She hesitated, still obviously uncertain whether she would be allowed to say this much. "...I saw the devil's face."

"Are you saying the client's face looked like the devil?" If so, it couldn't have been Kristoph...

"No!" Vera said quickly. "The client... was gentle. With a gentle smile."

That _did_ sound like Kristoph. "So... where'd you see this 'devil', then?"

"It was so quick," Vera replied thoughtfully. "I don't remember well. But... that's when I knew that person wasn't like other people. That's why," she said sincerely, "I believe in my good luck charm."

Phoenix pondered her words later, playing back the recording in the darkness of the office. Might be the devil... But Kristoph never showed himself as anything but kind and gentle to Phoenix, and it seemed unlikely he would let the facade drop in front of a little girl. Was he on the wrong track, or had Vera perceived something he hadn't? Considering Trucy's ability to read people, maybe there was something to the idea of women's intuition.

His investigation was at a standstill. There were no further questions he could ask, no further witnesses he could safely approach. He kept wearing the camera anyway, just in case something unexpected happened, something that would help him put all the pieces together - but in the months following, he found it taking on a different function than its original intended purpose.

The video files were kept in a password-protected, hidden directory on Mia's computer - and backed up on some free webspace, hidden behind an index file as Ema had suggested, because Phoenix was aware that Mia's old computer could die at a moment's notice. They were labelled with names and dates, sorted so that Phoenix could pull up exactly what he needed to review when the time came to connect the dots.

Gradually, though, he found that he had more files unrelated to the case than anything else, and nearly all labelled with the same name. There were a few others - Larry at the opening of a gallery show, Maya stuffing her face with burgers when she came to visit, a beaming Gumshoe declaring his engagement to Maggey - but the majority of them were Trucy. Recordings of her birthday party, of her show at the Wonder Bar, the day she learned to ride a bike, even such ordinary everyday moments as the smile on her face when Phoenix picked her up at the bus stop, or her snuggling close to hug him before bed with an earnest "I love you, daddy". These were the files he reviewed over and over, and they never failed to make him smile.

He'd probably have done the same with videos taken during a brief midweek trip to Kurain, arranged stealthily through Maya - except that since Phoenix had explained his method of investigation through the letters they'd exchanged, Miles flatly refused to take his clothes off until the hat was off Phoenix's head and hidden beneath something for good measure. At least Phoenix managed to capture a few moments between them, brief glimpses of Miles letting his guard down and giving him a smile that was weary but honest. Someday, Phoenix thought, that smile would only be honest. He just didn't know when.

He didn't take videos of Kristoph often. He didn't need to, when Kristoph was so frequently around, and Phoenix didn't want to see that friendly smile any more than he had to. It left him frustrated and angry.

In a fit of bitterness, however, shortly after a too-brief visit with Miles, Phoenix decided to take a video of Kristoph after all, when he was asked to stay the night at the manor. Kristoph had claimed that after the time apart, he wanted Phoenix all to himself.

It was revenge, in a sense. The whole mess had really started when Kristoph had gotten him into bed and taken pictures of him without his consent. Even if Kristoph was obviously consenting to sex (in fact, he was instigating it), he'd still never allowed Phoenix to see his face in the process.

So soon after having been with Miles, sleeping with Kristoph didn't sit well with him, and he found himself flinching at the touch of Kristoph's fingers against his skin as the other man helped him off with his shirt, undid his fly. It could have been mistaken for a shudder of pleasure, but for the fact that he wasn't particularly aroused. Not that Kristoph was likely to notice; by that time Phoenix knew what was expected of him when they had a bed, and so once he was undressed, he turned over.

The hat had gotten caught up inside his shirt as it was pulled over his head, so while Kristoph was busy taking off his own jacket, Phoenix dislodged it, subtly pressing a particular spot beneath the knit as he pulled it free. The corner of the headboard seemed a convenient place to hang a hat while Phoenix was lying there on his stomach with another man's weight atop him... It even amused him a little, looking up and seeing that shocked face staring at himself and Kristoph. Before he'd become so jaded, that had more or less been his own reaction to Kristoph's rough handling of him.

Now, after more than a year, he knew exactly what to expect - which was good, because he didn't want to have to think about what Kristoph was doing to him. He could just lie there, letting Kristoph have his way, not thinking but _feeling_, which was inevitable when Kristoph knew him as well as he knew Kristoph. Reluctant half-arousal turned painfully hard when Kristoph took just the right angle with his thrusts. Finely manicured fingertips sliding beneath him to stroke, just as he needed, made him moan. He knew perfectly well that he couldn't stop himself from reacting to the physical stimulation regardless of how he felt about the person doing the stimulating, so it was best not to think about it, or anything at all, as Kristoph pounded him into the mattress. Fortunately, Kristoph was good enough that Phoenix would have had trouble thinking anyway...

But the most pleasurable sensation was the smugness Phoenix felt when he looked up to see the hat hanging on the corner of the bed, knowing that he knew something Kristoph didn't.

"I take it you're enjoying yourself tonight?" Kristoph asked with mild amusement afterwards, his breathing heavy as he sat back, running a comb through his hair. Still flat and face down on the messy sheets, Phoenix hadn't been able to keep himself from laughing faintly.

"You could say that." Particularly as it wasn't Kristoph he was really enjoying.

"I'm glad." One hand stretched out over Phoenix's head, placing the comb in one of the headboard compartments, then settled atop his head, stroking his hair. "That vacation in Kurain seemed to do you some good - I don't think I've heard you laugh in weeks."

"Yeah..." Phoenix was glad he had enough reason to be grinning as he rolled over. "I guess I left inspired this time."

"Inspired, hmm...?" Kristoph mused, his expression mild as ever. "Someday I suppose I _must_ go with you, to thank Maya Fey."

The grin was frozen on Phoenix's face as he nodded. "I've told her all about you - I'm sure she'd love to finally meet you." Unfortunately, telling Maya that she shouldn't encourage Pearl to slap him would make her less enthusiastic. And bringing Kristoph meant no Miles... and he'd have to keep a close eye on Kristoph at all times, to make certain he wasn't planting any bugs.

So much for Phoenix's good mood. At least until Kristoph suggested he get up so the sheets could be changed, and that perhaps he should find a better place for that ridiculous hat. Glancing up again to the hat hanging on the headboard, watching them, Phoenix had to laugh a little again as he grabbed it and stood, giving it a little squeeze on his way out to get a glass of water.

Despite how pleased with himself he was for pulling one over on Kristoph for a change, upon reviewing the video the next night, Phoenix kind of wished he hadn't done it. Looming behind him, pinning his hands to the mattress, teeth bared in a possessive grin, hair unfurled about his shoulders, Kristoph didn't even look like the Kristoph Phoenix knew anymore, but someone entirely different and unfamiliar. He looked like...

For the first time, Phoenix could truly believe that the person Vera Misham spoke of had been Kristoph. But she'd said it wasn't the client's _face_ that made her think he was the devil - there was something else that she'd seen. And thank goodness, because the idea of Kristoph looking at a twelve-year-old girl with an expression like that, or under what circumstances he might look at her in that way, was horrifying.

Phoenix considered deleting the video right away. It couldn't have been used as evidence for anything (blackmail maybe, but there was no use for it in a courtroom), and he didn't want to watch it again. But then, he'd gone to the trouble of getting the recording against Kristoph's wishes, which might just be enough reason to keep it as a matter of pride. A trophy of sorts, perhaps.

That was how he found himself watching it again a few months later, despite his misgivings. It was a reminder that this wasn't hopeless, that he _could_ make some headway against Kristoph, and he sorely needed one, because he'd found nothing new for his case in all that time.

He thoroughly enjoyed the smug look on his face afterwards, while behind him Kristoph was putting himself back in order. _"I take it you're enjoying yourself tonight?" "You could say that."_

It was then that Phoenix saw it - and at first he wondered if some of the ghost stories Maya had told him about channelings gone wrong had been true, because it looked like there was a flickering, ghostly face over the video. He paused it, peering at the image, and then resumed play. He quickly realized that it was moving with Kristoph's hand, as the man combed out his hair. That was even more unsettling, until he recalled that he'd seen at least the 'mouth' before, and had even noticed it a year ago. He'd been too preoccupied with what Kristoph's other hand was doing at the moment to ask what had happened.

Just an old scar, and a nervous twitch - nothing more sinister than that. But now Phoenix was sure he knew what Vera had seen.

He visited her and her father again a few days later, having printed out a close-up view of the image, focusing on the hand holding the comb. (He was _very_ careful to crop out anything that would suggest what had been going on a few minutes earlier in the video.) Vera seemed glad to see him, to his relief, rather than frightened... at least until he showed her the picture. "Is this the devil that you saw?"

Immediately she withdrew into herself, chewing on her fingernails nervously. That was more than enough answer for Phoenix. So possibly that video could be used as evidence after all - and he didn't mind any potential blow to his dignity (if he had any left in the first place) by showing it in court, if it would bring Kristoph down. "Listen, Vera... I know it's a really big favor to ask, but if you could just tell me that this is what you saw, when the client gave you your good luck charm..."

"No!" Vera exclaimed, hugging herself tightly. "I... I didn't see anything!"

Badgering a stubborn witness on the stand was one thing. Badgering a superstitious young girl who was already terrified of strangers was entirely different, and Phoenix quickly realized that even if her father hadn't been standing there looking like he was about to say something, he couldn't have put her through any more stress. "Okay... Okay. That's fine," he assured her. "Let's talk about something else, okay? That painting over there... that's new, isn't it? Is that yours, or your father's?"

She visibly relaxed at the change of subject. "The landscape? I made that."

"It's really pretty," Phoenix told her. "Nice job. How long did it take you?"

"Er, she's been working on that one for a month," Drew put in.

His words were followed by the clanking of chains only Phoenix could see. So Drew was still having her work on forgeries, was he? Even after the trouble caused by that notebook paper... Phoenix was tempted to force him to come out with it, but then he realized - he'd lose all access to his most valuable witnesses if he caused any problems for either Drew or Vera. ...It wasn't evidence they were forging, he decided, and therefore it wasn't his problem.

Not that it would have made any difference, he admitted later - in the coming years, he never managed to get any further useful evidence out of the Mishams.


	16. Chapter 16

As much as he enjoyed his trips to Kurain Village, Phoenix was putting off planning for his next visit. After all, there was no conceivable way that he was going to meet up with Miles there, what with Kristoph wanting to accompany him. He was going to have to watch Kristoph like a hawk, pay attention to every interaction he might have with Maya or Pearl... It wasn't going to be fun. And worse yet, if Kristoph wound up liking it there? Phoenix was probably never going to get a chance to go back without him.

When he expressed this concern to Maya, however, on a long pay phone conversation one morning, she brushed it off. "Oh, I don't think you have to worry about _that_, Nick."

"Yeah...?"

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. Just pick a date, and I'll make sure we're ready for him."

The tone of her voice definitely implied mischief. "...Okay, what are you up to? Remember, this guy's dangerous, so you-"

"Trust me, we'll treat him politely." Phoenix could almost see her grin over the phone. "Really, really politely. We'll show him all the good old-fashioned hospitality Kurain has to offer."

Though still a little wary, Phoenix decided to trust her judgment, and proposed an overnight trip to Kristoph, who could surely leave his law firm to others in his practice for a couple of days. A few weeks later, after his current and recent cases had been neatly tied up, and Phoenix had arranged for Trucy to stay with a school friend (he didn't want her to have to spend any more time around Kristoph than she had to), the two of them boarded the train for the mountains.

They were greeted at the Kurain bus stop by Maya. "You must be Mr. Gavin! Die in a fire!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

Phoenix's eyes widened, and Kristoph blinked. "...Excuse me?

"D'yi-na fa-yir," Maya enunciated more slowly. "It's an ancient Kurain expression of good will for an honored guest. And you're definitely an honored guest, Mr. Gavin - Nick's told me all about you, and I'm so glad we finally got the chance to meet!"

"Ah..." Kristoph looked slightly bewildered. "Thank you. He's told me rather a lot about you too."

"Nothing bad, I hope - I mean, we Kurain Village types are kind of simple compared to you city folk. Right, Nick?" Maya winked at Phoenix, who was incredibly grateful for all the practice he'd had with the poker face. "Come on, Pearly's ready for the welcoming ritual." Kristoph raised an eyebrow, but followed her across the street to the Fey Manor, as did Phoenix. Welcoming ritual, hmm...?

Pearl was waiting at the front door, bouncing happily. "Yay! It's Mr. Nick and Mr. Kristy! This is so exciting! Did you have a nice trip?"

"Yeah, it wasn't bad," Phoenix replied easily, as Kristoph stared at the little girl in disbelief. Next to _that_ nickname, Phoenix really didn't have any problem whatsoever with 'Nick'. He really had to give Maya some points there... and wonder what she'd told Pearl to get her to look so happy about meeting Kristoph.

Kristoph gathered himself quickly, and smiled. "A pleasure to meet you. You must be Pearl Fey?"

"Yup! Just a second," Pearl told them, ducking back inside for a moment. "I've got everything right here for the ritual."

"Ah, yes - Maya did mention a welcoming ritual of some sort..."

"_Mystic_ Maya," Pearl corrected him, popping back out with a large bucket. "And it's really more of a cleansing ritual, since you aren't from Kurain. Before you can enter the most sacred parts of the Fey Manor, you have to be purified first."

"...Purified?" Kristoph inquired.

"Usually we have people stand under a cold waterfall," Maya explained, "but that seemed like an inconvenience, dragging you all the way out in the boonies after you just spent so much time sitting on the train and the bus and everything. Go ahead, Pearly!"

Phoenix could see where this was going, and he absolutely approved. Pearl, however, hesitated. "Er, Mr. Kristy?" she said, looking up at him. "You're kind of tall... Can you kneel down?"

Kristoph was looking at Phoenix warily. Clearly he could see where this was going too. "Is this really necessary...?"

Phoenix nodded soberly. "They take tradition and ritual _very_ seriously here in Kurain, Kristoph. I know it seems a little funny when you're not used to it, but..." He shrugged helplessly.

Reluctantly, Kristoph knelt on the porch, removing his glasses. "When in Rome..." he murmured. "I'm just glad I brought plenty of spare clothing."

"No need," Maya assured him, as Pearl lifted the bucket over his head. "You'll have to wear a special outfit while you're here. I mean, you can't walk around wearing city clothes in a place like this. They're too informal."

Kristoph sputtered a little under the deluge of cold water, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. "I suppose that's acceptable..."

He held his tongue when Maya presented him with the outfit he would have to change into, but his silence spoke volumes to Phoenix. Who also had to hold his tongue, or at least hold back his laughter.

"I notice," Kristoph said finally, looking to Phoenix, "that Phoenix seems to be permitted to wear his 'informal' attire. Also that no purification ritual was required."

"That's because he's already achieved some of the requirements for disciples of the Kurain technique," Maya explained. "In fact, just before the two of you met, he and I did some really intense training together at Hazakura Temple - we sat all night together in a freezing mountain cavern, chanting spells while icy spirit water dripped on us. Since he's one of us, he can wear whatever he likes, and the spirits will welcome him into the manor no matter what."

Phoenix found the explanation all the more amusing because it was _true_. "I figured you wouldn't be up for that," he told Kristoph. "But if you _are_, I'm sure there's a nice cold sacred cavern somewhere a little higher in the mountains - isn't there, Maya?"

Kristoph shook his soaked head. "For now I'm content to be merely an observer... And speaking of," he added, with a meaningful glance at Maya and Pearl, "might I be left alone to change?"

"Okay!" Pearl turned to Maya. "Should I go check on dinner?"

"Sounds like a plan," Maya agreed. "Nick and I'll catch up a little while you're off doing that."

"...What exactly made her agree to all this?" Phoenix asked Maya once they'd left the room, and Pearl had run off down the hall, all starry-eyed.

"Well, I'm the Master of Kurain now," Maya pointed out proudly. "All I had to do was tell her that there were a bunch of specific rituals that only the Master knew about."

"Yeah, but she knows you don't do them on me. Or anyone else who comes in from outside the village."

"But you see," Maya explained with a mischievous grin, "you're my 'special someone', and no one else who comes in from outside the village is going to be your attendant at our wedding."

"That explains a lot," Phoenix admitted. "Except I see one problem there. ...Won't this make Pearl all that much more fanatic about us getting married?"

"Uh, maybe... I guess I'll deal with that when it comes up."

Phoenix was almost convinced that this might be worth it. He was _definitely_ convinced when Kristoph opened the sliding door and stepped out of the guest room in a larger version of practically the same outfit Pearl was wearing, pink and all. His apparent nonchalance about the matter might even have been more hilarious than if he'd been self-conscious, Phoenix observed, trying not to have to bite his lip. "Not quite what I'm used to," Kristoph remarked, "but I'm sure I'll adjust."

"It _does_ look good on you," Phoenix told him. ...It kind of did, in a strange sort of way.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it in no time," Maya assured Kristoph. "I mean, Pearly and I can wear whatever we want too, but the traditional Kurain clothing is just so much more comfortable than boring old street clothes, why bother?"

"That may have something to do with the difference between men's and women's fashion," Kristoph remarked, but offered no further resistance. It seemed he was willing to put up with the strange regional customs so far... Phoenix wondered, though, what else Maya had planned.

"So now that you're properly dressed," said Maya, as perky as Phoenix had ever seen her, "are you two ready for some food?"

"Sure, I'm starved," Phoenix agreed, and Kristoph nodded.

"Great!" Maya clasped her hands together happily. "Since it's your first visit, Mr. Gavin, I decided I'd welcome you with a traditional Kurain meal instead of the same kind of stuff you can get in the city. If that's okay - I mean, I know some people aren't really into trying new things."

"Oh no - I'm always interested in regional specialties."

"In that case, I think you'll do fine. I mean, Nick was kind of weirded out when he first came to visit, but..."

Phoenix very emphatically _didn't_ look puzzled - the first time he'd come to visit, they'd been planning to grill burgers out in the garden, which hadn't weirded him out in the slightest, except perhaps for its normality in such an otherwise strange place. Granted, the murder that took place that day had weirded him out, but he didn't think that was what Maya was getting at. In fact, as Maya showed them to the dining hall, she tugged at Phoenix's sleeve, halting him before he could follow Kristoph in. "By the way," she whispered, "it's chicken."

"Sounds great," Phoenix whispered back. "But Maya? Why are we whispering?"

She grinned brightly. "You'll see!"

"We're all ready!" Pearl informed them as they entered, standing at the head of the long, low table behind a pile of plates and silverware, and a couple of covered dishes. "You three get started, and I'll put dessert in the oven."

"Thanks, Pearly," Maya told her, kneeling down on the woven mats on one side of the table, and gesturing for Phoenix to join her. "And hey, when you're done... you remember what we talked about earlier?"

"Uh huh," Pearl agreed with a nod. "Just save some leftovers for me, okay?"

"We'll try to remember," Maya teased her. Once the little girl was out of earshot, she turned to Kristoph. "Pearl may be little, but she's a really good cook. Way better than me."

"We all have our talents," Kristoph said with a nod as he seated himself opposite Phoenix and Maya. "It's kind of her to offer hers at such a young age - everything smells quite delicious."

"I'll tell her later," Maya told him with a grin, reaching for a plate. "But for now, let's dig in."

Despite her talk of traditional Kurain cuisine, Maya offered no explanation of the dishes before them, though they definitely differed from the kind of food Maya usually served. The main course was some kind of meat stew over rice, with spicy steamed vegetables on the side. Probably healthier than their usual fare, Phoenix observed, and started filling his plate. The seasoning in the stew was a little stronger than he was used to, but not unpleasant, and he nodded thoughtfully.

"This is excellent," Kristoph remarked, taking another bite of meat and rice. "A traditional dish, you said?"

"Yup," Maya said proudly. "This is our famous Kurain squirrel stew." Kristoph paused, mid-chew. "The Kurain tradition has been through some really tough eras," Maya explained, pretending not to see anything wrong. "So the elders taught us to make use of whatever we might have around us. Squirrel, possum, y'know. In remembrance of those who have gone before."

After an awkward silence, Kristoph chewed once more and swallowed. "...I see." Phoenix noticed with amusement that he mostly stuck to the rice and vegetables after that exchange, and made a note to sympathetically tell Kristoph later that the people of Kurain really only pulled out the squirrel on special occasions - most outsiders balked at eating rat.

"Well, well..." The three of them looked up as Pearl returned from the kitchen - considerably taller, top-heavier, and in fact not actually Pearl anymore. Mia flashed Kristoph a sweet smile. "So you're Kristoph Gavin. I recall hearing your name come up in certain circles just before my death," she told him, taking up a plate and kneeling beside him at the table. "A pity we never had the chance to meet."

This being the first time Maya or Pearl had ever met Kristoph, it was Kristoph's first experience with a channeled spirit. Phoenix thought he handled it gracefully enough, though his eyebrows raised in surprise for a moment. "I assume you must be Mia Fey?" he inquired, setting his fork down to offer her a hand. "A pleasure to meet you now, at any rate."

"Likewise," she answered, accepting. "Your practice is doing quite well these days, I see. Very much the sort of firm I would have liked to have someday."

"Hmm?" Kristoph looked slightly puzzled. "Begging your pardon, but... you _are_ deceased, are you not?"

Mia nodded. "For about five years now. And don't worry," she added dismissively. "I'm over being sensitive about it."

"That's good, I suppose. Then if I may ask, Ms. Fey - how do you know of my practice?"

"Spirits are everywhere. And you know," she added with a wink, "we don't have much to do other than watch the living."

"Mm." Kristoph managed not to look terribly uncomfortable with that, to Phoenix's amazement. "I hope that we're good entertainment then," he said with a pleasant smile.

"Oh, yes." Her voice dropped, low and sultry, as she gave him a slow smile. "_Very_ good entertainment."

That wasn't how it worked, and Phoenix knew it. Clearly Kristoph did not, though, and when Phoenix looked to Maya, she gave him a little wink as well. Phoenix cleared his throat, trying not to laugh. "Speaking of, Mia... you, er, had a look at how the office came out, right?"

"Are you kidding? _Exorcism_ couldn't keep me away."

"Well, what do you think?" Phoenix smiled across the table at Kristoph. "All his idea, you know."

"Not bad, for what it is. Of course," Mia added, "if I ever find out who's responsible for the turn of events that prompted the change to my old law offices..." Her tone was just slightly dangerous, but then brightened again. "But at any rate, Kristoph - may I call you Kristoph?"

"You may." That pleasant smile was still on his face. Phoenix wondered if it was stuck.

"I must commend you," Mia continued. "A talented lawyer, a diligent worker, and a thoughtful boyfriend. I'm so glad to see someone's taking care of Phoenix."

"It's no trouble at all. He makes me happy as well," Kristoph told her. For some reason, Phoenix was surprised when no psyche-locks appeared.

"And rather _cute_ on top of everything else." Mia gave Kristoph another wink, and slid a little closer to him. "You'd better watch out, Phoenix - I might just have to possess you sometime when he's over."

This time, Phoenix could let himself laugh. "That's hardly fair, Mia. You know he's already spoken for."

"That's why I'd have to possess you."

Phoenix was pretty sure she was joking, and that it didn't work that way. ..._Pretty_ sure. At any rate, he knew Mia was kidding in general, and so he grinned at Kristoph. "Don't worry - if she does, it'll be pretty obvious. I mean, it's just a _little_ obvious we're not talking to Pearls anymore, right?"

Kristoph just kept smiling. It looked to Phoenix like he really didn't know what else to do.

Mia continued to tease him as they finished the meal, and then said her quick farewells, noting that Pearl should at least get to enjoy dessert for herself. "And after dinner," she suggested, "why don't you and Phoenix show Kristoph around Kurain, Maya? There are plenty of interesting things to see... and you can tell him what to look out for," she added, which struck Phoenix as a little odd. There wasn't _anything_ he could think of in Kurain that anyone would need to look out for... aside from being paired up with the Kurain Master by a little girl, maybe.

"Great idea, sis!"

After Pearl had returned to normal and they'd had dessert, Kristoph glanced in the direction of the kitchen, where Maya and Pearl were taking leftovers to put them away. "This _isn't_ some sort of trick, is it?"

Actually, it was several tricks, but Phoenix didn't think that was what Kristoph was referring to. "Nope - I know it's a lot to wrap your head around in this day and age, but the Kurain technique really _is_ authentic. That was Mia's spirit in Pearl's body."

"Hmm..." Kristoph looked thoughtful, more than disturbed. "Though you told me about it before, seeing it in person..."

Phoenix nodded, entirely serious for a change. "It has to be seen to be believed. I've just seen it so much that it doesn't strike me as unusual anymore."

"As is the case for many things about Kurain, it would seem."

...Well, the outfit Kristoph was wearing was still striking Phoenix as unusual. Even if he did wear it with a surprising amount of grace.

The tour of Kurain that Maya offered was somewhat like the tour she'd offered Phoenix when he brought her back, after her aunt's incarceration... except that Phoenix didn't remember so many grisly tales of supernatural death caused by malevolent spirits, or warnings to never set foot in various places without a special charm to ward off demons. In fact, when they arrived back at the manor in the dwindling twilight, Maya made note of a few points of similar interest around her home. "So yeah - if you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, and you see a reflection in the mirror that isn't yours? It's no biggie, as long as you can get to the bucket of spirit water in the corner before they make it through the paling."

"In fact," Phoenix added, "that's how I figured out that that weird little girl with no eyes can still see what you're doing somehow. One time I just started towards that bucket and she left me alone."

"Hmm..." muttered Kristoph. "That's useful to know."

"And if you have to actually toss it at something to get rid of them," Maya offered, "just come wake me up and I'll bless a new bucket of water for the next person. I mean, you wouldn't want Pearl to go in there an hour later and wind up waking everyone up exorcising an evil spirit by force or anything, you know?"

"I'll be sure to remember that."

Despite the vague frown, Kristoph didn't seem overly concerned about all the warnings he was receiving, and as they got ready for bed, Phoenix had to point it out. "You know, you're handling this place better than I thought," he observed. "Especially for someone who isn't already used to dealing with spirits."

"I've always thought," Kristoph remarked, pulling on the plain white shift they'd provided for him to sleep in, "that the living are far more frightening than the dead could ever be."

Phoenix thought about this for awhile as the two of them lay together on a thin mat in the guest room, slowly drifting off to sleep. Honestly, Kristoph was right.

Despite Maya's efforts at frightening him, Kristoph seemed to sleep well - except for the part where he had been sleeping on a thin mat on the floor, and woke with a stiff neck. Maya said she knew just the thing to fix that, and offered up a home remedy that took the form of a pasty substance, which smelled like fish. Kristoph declined.

By the time they were due to catch the bus, Kristoph's patience for Kurain seemed to be wearing thin. No electronics were allowed within the Fey Manor, Maya had told him when he asked if he might be excused to make a phone call, because it interrupted the spiritual vibrations. (She'd hidden the television, the VCR, the entire run of several samurai shows she'd collected on tape, the video games, the computer, the phones, and her clock radio, Phoenix noted with amusement. For her, it was quite a sacrifice.) In fact, he might want to watch his step, since he'd unwittingly brought in his cell phone, and the spirits probably weren't pleased already...

Given Kristoph's opinions about spirits, however, this hadn't caught him off guard nearly so much as when Pearl started hanging all over him, telling him how happy she was that Mr. Nick had a good friend like him, and asking his opinions on flowers for the wedding. Fortunately, she didn't specify whose before Maya dragged her off in exasperation, telling her that this was just a casual trip - no one was talking about actually planning a wedding. ...Yet. Pearl didn't bother him again about it, but continued gazing up at him with starry eyes and giggling. Phoenix was fairly sure that Kristoph had no idea she was talking about _Maya's_ wedding.

And then, on their way out of the manor for the last time, Maya claimed there was one last ritual they had to do before Kristoph left town - he didn't want to take any of the spirits back with him to possibly start haunting his place or anything, right? So now, though he was allowed to wear his own clothes again, they had to be sprinkled down with sacred ash, and a mark placed on his cheeks as well to make the spirits flee. By the time they were finished, Kristoph looked like a very businesslike, if somewhat dejected, chimney sweep.

"D'yi-na fa-yir, Mr. Gavin!" Maya said, giving Kristoph a big wave. "Have a nice trip!" He smiled pleasantly and nodded.

Phoenix lingered behind for a moment to give Maya a tight goodbye hug as Pearl happily led Kristoph off to the bus stop. "Maya?" he murmured. "I just _might_ have to marry you for this."

On the other hand, Maya laughed openly. "Sorry, I don't think it would work out. Maybe a date or two at the burger joint, though..."

"You got it," Phoenix agreed. "Seriously, words _cannot express_ how much I love you right now."

"That's okay." Maya grew a little more serious abruptly as they let go of each other, and she stepped back. "If anyone needs words expressing love right now, it's Mr. Edgeworth. He called the other day to see if anything new was going on, and he sounded really stressed out."

...It _had_ been awhile since Phoenix had seen him. Or written, or phoned. There wasn't much new to report, after all. "I'll give him a call soon. Once I've gotten back home."

Before that, however, he and Kristoph had some travel ahead of them. "So," Phoenix asked nonchalantly, as Kristoph pulled a handkerchief from his pocket just outside of the village, "what did you think of Kurain?"

"You'd said it was a bit odd and old-fashioned." Kristoph wasn't having much luck wiping the smudges from his face, given the bumpy mountain roads and the lack of a mirror. "You never implied just _how_ odd and old-fashioned it is."

"I guess I don't really think about it much, since I've done enough training to avoid all the rituals they have for outsiders. ...So what do you think?" Phoenix suggested with a grin. "Want to go back sometime, and stay a little longer? Maybe we could go to Hazakura first, and you could do the same training I did - it might make things easier." Or at the very least, Phoenix could see him come out of that cavern in the morning, drenched and shivering. The thought pleased him.

"That's all right, I don't think our schedules are entirely compatible for a longer stay together," Kristoph said without hesitation. "And being without my cell phone and my pocket computer is something of a strain on me - I suppose I'm just not cut out for relaxing vacations in the countryside."

"They're not for everyone," Phoenix agreed. And given that he'd just promised Maya that he'd call Miles soon... "...Myself, I might head back again in a couple weeks, maybe with Trucy." Now that he could be assured Kristoph wouldn't be there, and that there was the possibility Miles _might_ be, another vacation in Kurain couldn't come soon enough.


	17. Chapter 17

Phoenix couldn't wait to call Miles and start planning another getaway. Especially now that he knew Miles was calling Maya from time to time, because _he_ wanted the chance to tell Miles about Kristoph's special treatment at Kurain. Already he was considering his schedule, and if it was feasible to have Trucy miss a little school (her grades were fine anyway, and he could ask her teacher for some assignments) to bring her along. He couldn't get started on that until he gave Miles a call.

He did so after seeing Trucy off at the bus stop the next morning, calculating the hours and determining that it should be early evening for Miles already - and Kristoph would be at his office catching up on what he'd missed over the last couple days, meaning the coast was clear if he wanted to take a little walk through the park, and detour to use a pay phone...

There was a strange tone to Miles's voice when he answered, and Phoenix couldn't quite put his finger on it when all he said was a simple "Edgeworth speaking."

"Hey." Phoenix was smiling already at the sound of his voice. "It's me."

"I thought it might be. Each time I get a call from your area code but I don't recognize the number..."

Maybe that was why the strange tone. "Not a lot of people calling you from LA pay phones, huh?"

"I can't think of anyone else who's gone that route since I left the country, no."

"I guess not. Anyway, I just got back from Kurain," Phoenix told him.

"Ah. Yes, Maya said Kristoph wanted to join you next time. But she had a plan..."

"She sure did," Phoenix chuckled. "I don't think he's going to come back again. So we're all clear, and Maya said I should give you a call anyway..."

There was a soft answering chuckle, but Miles didn't sound particularly amused. "I wanted to talk to you."

For some reason, despite the fact it was exactly what Phoenix wanted too, the tone of Miles's voice didn't make it sound like a good thing. "...Is something wrong?"

"Wrong...?" Miles sounded like he was considering the idea. "I... Not _wrong_, perhaps... I..."

That tone in his voice was more clear now - uncertainty. "What's going on?" Phoenix asked.

"I don't know where to begin, actually," Miles admitted. "I've never been good at this... and for all my thinking about the matter, I can't seem to find a way to put it into words... that can't be misconstrued."

This definitely didn't sound good. "Then let me misconstrue them," Phoenix told him. "And then you can tell me in what way they're misconstrued."

That soft chuckle was more authentic. "Wright, sometimes I'm not sure if you're an idiot or a genius."

Phoenix was beginning to get a very bad feeling about where the conversation was going, but... Miles sounded affectionate. Well, as much as he ever did. It set his mind a little more at ease. "So?"

Immediately, he kind of wished he hadn't encouraged Miles. "...Phoenix, I've been thinking. About... what we're doing."

Although Phoenix didn't actually have much more experience with relationships than Miles did, he knew from assorted books, television shows, and movies that a conversation that started with I've been thinking was almost never a happy one. The use of his first name meant that Miles was dead serious, too. The sun on his face didn't seem so warm anymore as he waited for Miles to elaborate.

"I find it... difficult." A pause, and then another soft chuckle, this one bitter. "Even talking about it is difficult, obviously. I... after you made it clear what had happened, between us and between you and Kristoph - perhaps even before that - I determined that there was no use denying... my feelings towards you. I still can't."

Though Phoenix could already hear the unspoken word to follow, he was at least grateful to Miles for saying that much first, no matter what dire news was about to come. He stayed silent, letting Miles struggle through whatever he was trying to get across.

"But..." And there it was. "...It's been months since we've seen each other. It's been almost that long since we've even spoken over the phone. Our letters are infrequent-"

"I'm sorry," Phoenix put in. "I know that's my fault. It's just that nothing's been happening - there's not much to write about, unless you want a play-by-play of some of my poker matches, or maybe Trucy's grades."

"I honestly wouldn't mind," Miles told him. "If that was all that was bothering me, I would have written you myself and told you plainly to write more. But you've just gotten to the center of the problem yourself, Phoenix - _nothing's been happening_." Phoenix was glad he'd stayed quiet, because he could hear a dangerous frustration creeping into Miles's voice. "It's been well over a year now, since you and Mia and myself sat down to discuss what should be done about Kristoph. And we're still exactly where we were at that time."

"Not _exactly_," Phoenix pointed out. "I've had my suspicions about the evidence confirmed by the person who created it - that counts as progress, doesn't it?"

"But you still don't have enough evidence to take the case before the courts. The last time you wrote, you said you were at a loss if she wouldn't testify in court, or even say it plainly on video, and you had no further leads. Have you found any since then?"

Phoenix was definitely still at a loss. "...No..."

"I know what you're doing, and that no one wants this resolved more than you," Miles stated. "But in the meantime, I can't help but wonder how long this _charade_ is going to go on. How long we'll have to hide all contact with each other, how long we'll have only our secret rendezvous in Kurain, how long you'll keep sleeping with _him_. Or to be more accurate, letting him use you for his own sick pleasure. ...I don't like knowing what's happening over there, and knowing I can't put a stop to it."

"...Yeah. I'm not too thrilled about it either." Phoenix was getting very mixed signals now. "What are you saying, Miles? I mean, you know I've got a reason for doing this, and I can't back out now."

"I understand, and I'm not asking you to." Miles sounded irritable, but Phoenix knew by now that it was largely self-defense. "I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm growing very tired of waiting for something that may never happen, while you're doing whatever you please."

"Whatever I please?" Phoenix frowned, knowing all too well where this was leading. He couldn't help but get a little defensive. "You think I _like_ playing this little game, letting him use me?"

"I've already said that I don't think that at all," Miles reminded him bluntly. "But you're the one who determines how long it will go on. And in the meantime, all I can do is wait and hope that your breakthrough comes soon. Or that you'll give up, and that somehow you'll be safe from him once you have."

"I know... I'm sorry." Phoenix had no idea what to say to this. "I don't know what else I can do. But Miles, I don't want this to be upsetting you. Is there something I can do? Something I can say? I was calling to see if you wanted to meet up again soon..."

"But afterwards, you would go right back to letting him use you," Miles pointed out. "And I would come back to Europe, and be expected to be content with that. ...It's _unfair_ to expect me to be content with this, or to expect me to wait for _heaven knows_ how long for this to be resolved so that you and I can be together."

"You know what? You're right," Phoenix agreed emphatically, though inside he felt like curling up and cowering at what he now knew Miles was getting at. "It _is_ unfair. I know it's unfair. You _shouldn't_ have to be content with what's going on. I understand. ...I'm sorry."

Miles paused in his near-rant - it was no wonder Phoenix felt intimidated, because for a moment there, he'd sounded exactly like he was making his case in the courtroom. His voice quieted, though. "I know you are. I wish I _could_ be content with it."

"But you're not."

"No, I'm not."

Phoenix took a deep breath, turned his head just to see if anyone was nearby. He wasn't sure how he was going to react to the answer to the question he was about to ask. "...Are you breaking up with me?"

"I don't want to," Miles said, gruffly. "And to be honest, I don't believe it's possible. We never were truly back together in the first place, by mutual agreement. ...I've spent a long time thinking about this, Phoenix, and it occurred to me some time back that this arrangement - the occasional visits, with nothing between other than hopes and dreams that never come to light - is little improvement over the time when we weren't speaking at all. In fact, it might be even more frustrating, being left clinging to promises that have, so far, been empty."

It was an improvement for _Phoenix_. But he could understand where Miles was coming from, not being in the thick of it as he was. "I'm sorry."

"I know that," Miles growled. "Stop saying it."

Phoenix barely stopped himself from apologizing again. "Look, Miles... I don't want you to be frustrated. Do you want to put an end to this? And by 'this' I mean _us_." There was a shudder that ran through the pit of his stomach when he said it, but he didn't let it reach his voice. "Tell me what you want."

"That's what I've been wanting to talk to you about," Miles explained, his voice growing more weary than annoyed. "I don't want to leave you to go through this alone. But I also don't want to be forced to hang on forever. ...Trimming it down to the simplest terms," he finished, "I want to be through with expectations on either of our parts."

That _was_, Phoenix thought, not as terrible as what he'd been expecting. It was still upsetting, though. "...So I won't expect you to wait for me? Is that what you want?"

"I'd like _myself_ to stop expecting it as well, ideally," Miles muttered. "And I won't expect you to risk your safety or Trucy's just because I'm uncomfortable."

But Phoenix he had no idea where they stood, what he would be agreeing to. "...Are we still friends?"

"Of course we are," Miles answered immediately.

"What if I _want_ to take a little risk to spend a couple of days with you? Or nights?"

There was a pause. "...We'll see what I think of the idea at the time, but I won't promise anything. That's the whole point, Phoenix. No more promises we may not have a choice in keeping. No more expectations for the other to keep them."

Phoenix couldn't help but wonder. "Miles, do you already have someone else in mind?"

"No." There was no doubt at all in Phoenix's mind that Miles's answer was honest. "I never have. But if the chance arises, I would prefer not to be tethered to vague fantasies of what _might_ happen someday. And I would like to be in a state of mind where even entertaining the brief thought would not bring me guilt."

"Yeah... I can understand that."

And that was probably it. As far as expectations went, Phoenix had expected to be in an even better mood than he already was after this phone call. So much for that.

"...But as for fantasies of what may someday be...?" Miles added.

"Hmm?"

"I still have my badge. I intend to keep it." For the first time in this conversation, there was no uncertainty in Miles's voice. "Once you manage to get yours back... depending on how long it takes, there might be another partner or two, but I still want you in my firm - regardless of what form our relationship may take."

It didn't drive away all the darkness that seemed to be smothering Phoenix after this conversation, but hearing Miles say that was very much like seeing a candle lit in a window far away. Phoenix found himself laughing softly. "...Miles. Thanks."

"You're welcome. ...Now, I should be going - I've been sitting in my car in this lot for this entire conversation."

"Heh, sorry." And Phoenix couldn't _not_ say it. "Love you, Miles."

"Eh, I..." Phoenix could almost see him shifting uncomfortably. "I, er... you know I'm not good with that, Wright," Miles finally muttered.

"That's okay," Phoenix told him. "I get the idea. I think I do, anyway...?"

"You do."

Despite the call ending on a good note, Phoenix didn't know what to think as he started for home, his hands shoved in his pockets. It _seemed_ like a step back - but basically Miles was just asking for an open relationship, right? That's what Phoenix was trying to make himself believe, anyway. A little distance, a little freedom... the same things he'd offered Phoenix when he explained. Thinking about things logically, nothing much had really changed at all. Except maybe some of the pressure on Miles was relieved. That was a good thing. He could be okay with this.

At least he thought so.

* * *

Gumshoe married Maggey in early spring, in an outdoor ceremony in a public park, beneath a canopy of trees. Of course, since it was Gumshoe and Maggey, it rained so hard that everyone had to take shelter beneath a wooden pavilion halfway through. All the umbrellas and the dark, solemn police uniforms made it look more like a funeral than a wedding, Phoenix thought. Mr. Armstrong's loud sobbing throughout the ceremony only added to the atmosphere.

The bride and groom, however, were beaming, and Maggey declared the day a reward for enduring all her misfortune throughout the years. Phoenix, eyeing Kristoph seated leisurely beside him, wondered when _his_ reward was going to come.

It didn't help that he'd seen an unexpected face towards the end of the wedding march. But then, it shouldn't have been unexpected at all. Who else _would_ Gumshoe have asked to be his best man?

The reception was casual, just down the path in a now slightly muddy picnicking area. Miles looked just a little bit disgruntled by this - and no wonder, given that he and the other groomsmen were in white suits. Phoenix tried to keep his glances to a minimum, but Kristoph finally spoke up. "If you'd like to talk to him..."

Phoenix did, of course. Just not for the reasons Kristoph probably thought, since they'd already talked the most important parts out. He just wanted to catch up, to see how Miles was holding up... okay, and whether he'd taken advantage of their more recent agreement. He shook his head. "I just haven't seen him in a while - I'm trying to figure out what I think about seeing him now."

"What _are_ you thinking now?" Kristoph inquired.

Now that he had an excuse, Phoenix looked back to Miles more openly, and saw him looking back. ...This was as bad as high school. "Mostly just that it's been a long time. Things have changed." And that there was no way he could talk to him with Kristoph there, or it would be obvious that it hadn't been as long as Kristoph assumed. He couldn't chance Kristoph overhearing anything that he might say to Miles.

Kristoph was watching him intently when Phoenix looked back his direction. "I could come with you," he suggested. "To help put it to rest, for both of your sakes. He looks just as uncertain about this unexpected meeting as you do."

Phoenix started to shake his head, then considered. Kristoph was just going to keep thinking things were unresolved between him and Miles, unless there was some closure. And Miles surely would take care with his words if Kristoph was right there, and wouldn't expect Phoenix to mean anything he said.

Miles had averted his eyes when Phoenix looked back. "...I guess... I could introduce the two of you."

"Why don't we do that, then?" Kristoph reached for Phoenix's hand as they turned towards Miles, and he didn't let go. Phoenix was kind of relieved to have a hand to hold, even if it belonged to the wrong person.

It was obvious that Miles had been trying not to look at them, because he only looked up when they were practically right beside them. Knowing that he wouldn't have a clue what to say, especially when he didn't know what was going on, Phoenix preemptively gave him a cautious little smile. "Hey... been a while, Edgeworth."

"It has," Miles agreed, hiding his wariness as he turned to Kristoph. "...I thought I knew who you must be, but now I remember - we met in court once, didn't we?"

"Yes, the Drake manslaughter case," Kristoph replied with a nod. "I'd nearly forgotten. You won, if I recall."

"But you were the one who convinced your client to plead guilty on lesser charges," Miles pointed out, offering his hand. "A wise solution to the dilemma is not entirely a loss. ...A pleasure to properly introduce myself at last. Miles Edgeworth."

"Kristoph Gavin," Kristoph reciprocated, shaking his hand firmly. "The pleasure is all mine."

"Hardly. I'm relieved to see that Wright's life has at least been... stable, over these past years."

"You're a surprisingly gracious man."

Phoenix somewhat regretted the decision to start carrying the magatama on him at all times, because he could hardly _see_ Miles and Kristoph through the knotted mess of interwoven chains and locks.

"...About that, Edgeworth," he finally spoke up. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know we left off on bad terms, and I've regretted it ever since."

"It's all right," Miles replied. "It was my fault as much as yours, and I've since come to terms with everything that happened. ...How about you?" he asked seriously. "Have you put it behind you as well?"

Phoenix nodded. "I'm doing fine."

At first he wasn't sure why Miles's eyes widened briefly at that statement. Then he remembered - Miles was attuned to the magatama, just as he was, and one who knew how to use the magatama only needed to be in the general vicinity for it to work.


	18. Chapter 18

Afterwards, Phoenix was kind of amazed at how civil small talk between Kristoph and Miles had been. It wasn't the first time that he'd thought that maybe they'd get along, of course, for they had their similarities - at least if Kristoph had actually been sincere, and not a scheming liar (and probably worse). But Miles saw the psyche-locks too, he had _proof_ Kristoph was being facetious, and they _still_ managed to have what looked like a friendly conversation.

It gave him something to think about that night, other than the fact that Miles was right there in town and he was invited to Kristoph's manor instead, slightly tipsy from the toasts that had been offered. Kristoph's suggestions of going straight to bed had been turned down; being fuzzy and unsteady in Kristoph's home, with warm hands supporting him and stroking him was enough to bring back memories that left Phoenix feeling kind of sick, and he asked Kristoph to just take him back to his apartment after all. He spent too long in the shower, until the hot water was running cold - first because he couldn't stop thinking of Kristoph's hands all over him, and then because he tried to make himself stop thinking of Kristoph by thinking of Miles. It still wasn't quite working, until something in his foggy brain misfired, and he started thinking of Miles _with_ Kristoph. _That_ worked, and he collapsed on the couch in his room in more comfortable exhaustion afterwards.

It was an intriguing thought. Phoenix let himself entertain it sober from time to time, when Trucy was at school and he had some time before he had to be at work. Kristoph, face-down and splayed out - held down by chains as the fantasy evolved, because he and Miles both knew they were there - and Miles on top of him, fucking Kristoph like Kristoph fucked Phoenix. Twisted, probably unhealthy, but Phoenix decided he didn't care. It gave him something to think about that was both distracting and got him off quickly when he was with Kristoph.

It was quite some time before Phoenix discovered that Kristoph was apparently a little preoccupied with Miles too.

"It seems that Edgeworth was telling the truth about having moved on," Kristoph remarked one evening in the car, having picked up Phoenix at the Borscht Bowl after a shift. Plans had been made in advance for Trucy to stay with a neighbor, though by this time she was twelve - old enough she could have done some babysitting, let alone spent the night by herself (especially given how self-reliant she'd always been) - but Phoenix was wary of leaving her alone for other reasons. Of course Phoenix knew what was coming, and that Kristoph wouldn't be anywhere near his office tonight.

But he hadn't been anticipating any mention of Miles. The unexpected name on Kristoph's tongue almost made Phoenix flinch. "Oh?"

"Due to our careers and my brother's schooling," Kristoph explained, "Edgeworth and I have a few mutual acquaintances in Germany. They tell me he's been seen recently with other men."

This time Phoenix was too surprised to flinch. But then again, he thought, Kristoph could just be lying again. ...Or not, since he was carrying the magatama. All right, he admitted to himself, feeling a tightness in his chest. Miles had suggested as much when they had that conversation, and came to the agreement that neither of them should expect anything of the other. Well, Phoenix _really_ hadn't expected him to follow through on that.

Then again... "Other _men_? As in multiple?" It didn't sound like Miles was getting terribly serious.

"Yes, none of them seems to have been given priority. In fact, out of concern for your friend - and therefore you by association - I had someone look into the matter." Kristoph let go of the wheel with one hand to nudge his glasses up a little higher - Phoenix had figured out long ago it was a nervous habit, but the magatama told him that Kristoph wasn't _lying_, either. It was fairly predictable anyway, the idea that Kristoph might have had someone keeping an eye on Miles. "It appears that Edgeworth has associating with men who are little more than escorts. Undoubtedly, any relationship he might have with them would be casual. A warm body for his bed, if you would."

That _did_ hurt a little, but jealousy was the least of the reasons Phoenix could have cited. "Yeah... he did that now and then before we got together, too." And after they'd broken up... and as he'd said, they never _really_ were back together again in the first place. It wasn't like Miles was cheating on him. Mostly Phoenix felt awful because he knew that it didn't really work for Miles. Not after the two of them had started sleeping together, and really _connected_ instead of just having sex and then going their separate ways.

Kristoph glanced at him curiously. "And you were all right with this?"

"It was before we were involved. Why wouldn't I be?"

"For one thing, it's potentially risky behavior, casually sleeping around. Particularly with partners who are also casually sleeping around." Kristoph's eyes were ahead, on the road as he turned the corner onto his street. "And somehow, I thought you were the sort of person who believes that sex should be an expression of love."

"I am." And at the moment, he felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world - not only was he sleeping with someone he despised instead of with the guy he loved, but he'd driven the guy he loved back to sleeping with people he probably didn't care about. "But if other people want to do it for their own reasons, that's none of my business."

Pulling into the long driveway in front of the manor occupied Kristoph's attention. "Even when they might bring something home to you?"

"He's every bit as insistent on safe sex as you are," Phoenix pointed out. The fact that Miles had brought condoms and lube along on a spontaneous trip to see someone he wasn't even sure he wanted to share a bed with had really driven the point home. "And he stopped doing it when we were together."

"But can you be sure of that? After all, as we discussed in the past, he wasn't telling you everything."

Phoenix was silent as Kristoph parked the car and turned the key, but not because he was actually entertaining the thought that Miles had lied to him. Miles wouldn't have done that, and he knew it. The silence was because Phoenix knew exactly what Kristoph was trying to do, and he was _furious_.

Sure enough, when Phoenix didn't make a move to open the car door, Kristoph rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "But it hardly matters - it's over now, Phoenix. And I swear to you, I've never been one to sleep around."

No psychelocks. Phoenix wasn't surprised, nor would he have cared one bit if a dozen popped up. As long as Kristoph kept up the obsessive-compulsive habits in bed, he could sleep with porn stars and prostitutes whenever Phoenix wasn't looking as far as he was concerned.

...Being this angry really wasn't going to make for a tolerable night, Phoenix reminded himself as they headed inside, stopped briefly in the kitchen for a little water, and then started upstairs. It did, however, prompt a chuckle from Kristoph and a comment about just how voracious his kiss was tonight, which didn't make Phoenix any less angry at all.

Which was why he resisted this time, when Kristoph pulled his shirt off and started to push him down on the bed. "Hold on," he told Kristoph, bracing himself against the mattress to stay in a seated position, and fortunately the heat in his voice was softened a little by the fact that he was already breathing heavily. "Hold on, Kristoph. You trust me, don't you?"

Kristoph looked concerned, but also a little impatient as he straightened, his jacket already off and his shirt half-buttoned. "Is there some sort of a problem?"

The problem would be that Phoenix was sick and tired of lying there and just _taking_ whatever Kristoph did to him. "We've been sleeping together for how long now? Three years? Four? And you've never let me top you once."

There was _something_ that flashed in Kristoph's eyes for a moment, but it quickly passed. "...Is there something I'm doing that you don't like? Or perhaps something I've been leaving out that you would like me to do?"

"Not at all. I just think we could use some variety."

Kristoph definitely seemed to be surprised when Phoenix reached for his fly, and his hands landed on Phoenix's wrists, though they didn't try to stop him. "I _have_ given you manual, and oral..."

"But I'm always on the receiving end," Phoenix reminded him, unzipping and starting to work Kristoph's pants down past his hips while he was still standing.

"That's how I prefer it," Kristoph protested mildly, though he did oblige and step out of his pants. "I enjoy giving you pleasure-"

"And I'd like to return the favor." His hands turned to catch Kristoph's wrists in return and tugged him down closer, urging him to sit on the bed as well, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way when he got close enough. "Come on, Kristoph. I've done it before, with Miles."

Kristoph's expression was strangely blank as he slowly seated himself on the edge of the bed. "I'm not concerned about your _ability_ \- it's a-"

"Come on, Kristoph," Phoenix repeated in a murmur, removing Kristoph's shirt. He already knew it wasn't about ability - it was about Kristoph and his obsession with control. The idea of breaking that, of making _Kristoph_ go against his instincts, already had Phoenix more aroused than he'd been with Kristoph for well over a year; the intensity in his voice wasn't all anger anymore as he started to ease Kristoph back on the mattress. "Come on."

Kristoph took a deep breath. "Phoenix..."

He was resisting a little, but Phoenix pressed harder, until Kristoph couldn't manage to keep his balance anymore and had to either lie back or fall. "There," Phoenix muttered, and slipped his own pants and socks and underwear off quickly before reaching up to the headboard, where he knew Kristoph kept everything they would need. Kristoph looked startled by this turn of events, and Phoenix tried not to smirk openly as he grabbed one of the little square packets and a tube. "It _is_ pretty comfortable if you're on your stomach," he suggested. Except that it also kind of made one feel a little defenseless, and that was exactly how he wanted Kristoph to feel. "Turn over." Though Phoenix waited, Kristoph didn't move, and Phoenix decided he didn't care. "...Or not. If you'd rather let me look at you..."

_That_ got Kristoph to roll over, oddly enough. Phoenix supposed his weird hangup with letting his face be seen was stronger than his control fetish. Thinking about all the things Kristoph did to ensure he maintained control during sex made Phoenix angry all over again, and hopefully the rough way he pulled down Kristoph's underwear could be taken only as impatience.

"Phoenix..." Kristoph murmured into the pillow. He was breathing heavily, and Phoenix wondered if he was unexpectedly getting off on having someone else take charge. "I'm..."

Phoenix ignored it, as he was already opening the condom, rolling it on. Anticipation made his fingers shake. "You said before that you trust me. Don't you?"

"...Yes..."

The magatama was only a few feet away in Phoenix's pocket, so Phoenix could clearly see the chains wrapping themselves around Kristoph - just like in his secret fantasy, and Phoenix stifled a groan, kneeling over Kristoph with one knee between his. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this hard. "Then spread your legs."

Kristoph didn't make a move, and after a moment, answered quietly. "...No."

Phoenix frowned. "What do you mean, no?"

He was answered unexpectedly by Kristoph twisting beneath him, starting to roll over, but he reacted quickly, pushing Kristoph's shoulders down again, laying him flat, and used his weight to hold him there as he struggled. There was no way Kristoph was going to wiggle his way out of this, Phoenix decided, nudging his thighs further apart with one knee.

Kristoph was panting for breath. "...S-stop..." he managed to whisper. Phoenix shook his head. Not after all Kristoph had done to him. Even if Kristoph...

...Kristoph was shaking?

And not the way _he_ was trembling, Phoenix observed, pausing. One hand covered Kristoph's face, the other clutched at a pillow, and he was shivering uncontrollably. Every inch of his body made it clear that he was scared to death.

Of course, Phoenix thought, strengthening his resolve, this was a man who'd screwed him over repeatedly, messed up his whole life, destroyed his relationship with Miles, tried to hurt or kill his daughter, might have actually killed at least one other person who'd been his accomplice, and who knew what else. Who cared if he was scared? Phoenix moved closer, grabbing Kristoph's hip with one hand to hold his position steady. He _deserved_ this.

Kristoph's panicked, wheezing breaths were muffled in the pillow, his knuckles white.

...No. He didn't deserve this, Phoenix decided, taking a deep breath and settling back. _No one_ did. "...Hey, Kristoph? It's okay," he told him, turning his grip on Kristoph's shoulder into a caress. "I'm stopping. Okay?"

Kristoph didn't respond, but to inhale shakily and curl his chin down against his chest, clutching his head. Phoenix moved to sit beside him, ignoring the throb between his legs - it was flagging anyway, at the sight of this. "Hey..." he murmured, stroking Kristoph's hair. Despite everything he felt towards the man, he couldn't help it, seeing him like this. "You're all right. Calm down..."

The two of them stayed like that for a little longer, the only sound Kristoph's harsh breathing, until he drew a deeper shuddering breath and sat up, still covering his face with one hand. Before Phoenix could say anything, he'd gotten to his feet and taken up the bathrobe that hung on the back of his door.

"Kristoph?" Phoenix inquired, as Kristoph opened the door and walked out, still in the process of putting the robe on. "Hey..." He got up to look himself, but Kristoph was moving quickly, and Phoenix could only hear the sound of footsteps going downstairs.

This certainly wasn't what he was expecting to happen. But since it had, he supposed he'd better figure out what he was going to do about it. Since Kristoph already had a head start, Phoenix took a moment to calm down and compose himself before he followed, pulling on his boxers and his t-shirt. After all, Kristoph probably wasn't going far if he was just in his bathrobe. After looking around the ground floor - the downstairs bathroom, the kitchen, the sitting room - Phoenix realized that the front door was open. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but then he could make out a man-sized shadow in the yard, leaning against the trunk of a gigantic old oak tree and silouhetted against the streetlit lawn beyond.

The grass was soft beneath his bare feet as he made his way out to the tree as well - no wonder, in a neighborhood where everyone had a gardener. Kristoph had his back to Phoenix as he approached, and didn't turn to look. "Kristoph? Are you all right?" Phoenix began, but received no response aside from a twitch of hunched shoulders at the sound of his voice.

This was a man he'd spent the last few years working to expose, he reminded himself. Kristoph had ruined his life. It was very likely he'd ruined at least a few other lives. Their relationship was a lie from both ends, and the only passion he had for Kristoph was passionate _hatred_.

...And Phoenix found that he couldn't bring himself to care about one bit that when Kristoph was standing there in front of him, shaking, gulping in deep breaths of the cool night air, and knowing that it was his fault. "...I'm sorry," he said - and he meant it. "I couldn't have known you were going to react so strongly, but I shouldn't have pushed you. I'm really sorry."

Kristoph said nothing, but drew himself in a little tighter. There was a vague, irritable suspicion underneath Phoenix's concern that this might be another trick, something to arouse his sympathy. But then again, even without Trucy's uncanny ability to tell what people were feeling, or the magatama to warn him when someone was hiding something, Phoenix's gut feeling was that Kristoph was honestly, deeply upset by what had happened. He'd wondered, all that time ago when they first started sleeping together and he'd noticed how weird Kristoph was about sex, if he might have had some kind of really terrible experience with it. His theory seemed a lot more plausible now.

And although it was Kristoph, he couldn't _not_ offer. "...Do you want to talk about it?" Kristoph shook his head. "Uh, is there something I can do for you?" Kristoph shook his head again, and after a brief hesitation, shakily lowered himself to sit on the grass. Phoenix decided to sit with him, leaning back on his hands with a sigh. He had no idea what he should be doing now, or what he should be thinking.

Gradually, Kristoph's breathing slowed, and after what seemed like hours of sitting there in the dark, listening to the sounds of breeze and insects in the tree, he spoke with a steady voice. "I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."

Phoenix just nodded. "Should I find a ride home, then?"

"That's not necessary. The manor has plenty of room."

"Okay..." Phoenix started to stand, and looked down at Kristoph, still huddled down in the grass. He hadn't turned to look at him once. "Will you be okay?"

"Yes."

Phoenix wasn't convinced, and he caught himself about to tell Kristoph to come get him if he needed anything. He suppressed the urge, and simply said "Good night, then."

"Good night."

Back inside the manor, Phoenix went to Kristoph's room and straightened things up a little - tossing the unused condom and wrapper in the trash, putting away the lube, picking up Kristoph's clothes and folding them on the foot of the bed. ...He felt like a terrible person. Sure, he'd wanted to make Kristoph a little uncomfortable, but he hadn't meant to trigger any sort of severe traumatic episode.

Gathering up his clothes, he headed to the guest room across the hall, and completely failed to sleep until after he heard quiet footsteps outside, and a door closing. It was a change, Phoenix thought as he finally started to doze off, to have Kristoph's arrival be a relief.

When he woke late the next morning, Kristoph was already up. A quick look around proved that he wasn't even home anymore. At first Phoenix waited around for a while, wondering if he was going to be back in time to get _him_ to work on time. Then he remembered it was _Kristoph_ who had disappeared without letting him know, and called Trucy's school in a minor panic, to make sure that she'd made it. Present and accounted for, and Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief, settling back to wait some more.

Kristoph wasn't back by the time Phoenix really needed to leave, so he called a cab. Kristoph didn't stop by the Borscht Bowl that night, or by the office the next day, and there were no phone calls.

Just to see if anything was going on, Phoenix finally decided to stop by Kristoph's office after seeing Trucy off to school. By that time he had no idea what to expect, which was the only reason he wasn't surprised when Kristoph looked up and gave him a pleased smile when he knocked at the open door. "I was just thinking that I could use a pleasant interlude during a busy day. Please, Phoenix, come in."

Kristoph looked fine. There was no indication that anything out of the ordinary had passed between them... but maybe that was just because he was at work. Phoenix knew how he valued his professional image, and so he quietly closed the door. "Kristoph... I just came by to make sure you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He was still smiling. Phoenix wasn't. "...I also wanted to say again that I'm really sorry about the other night."

Kristoph looked mildly confused. "I don't seem to recall anything that you would need to apologize for."

"...But..." Phoenix wasn't sure what to think. Maybe he was just trying to pretend it never happened? He couldn't blame him - _he_ sure wished it hadn't happened.

"Whatever has you so concerned," Kristoph observed, matter-of-fact, "it can hardly be important if I don't even remember what you're referring to. Don't worry yourself any further - I assure you, I'm fine. There's nothing to apologize for."

It honestly did seem like Kristoph didn't know what he was talking about, and the rest of the conversation turned to small talk, catching up, a little flirting... Nothing unusual at all.

It wasn't until after he left that Phoenix realized that there had been exactly one unusual thing about the conversation after all. When Kristoph said he didn't remember anything Phoenix needed to apologize for, there had been no psyche-locks.

Many times in the past several years, things that Kristoph had said and done had left Phoenix concerned. This was the first time, however, that he'd said something that left Phoenix concerned for _him_.


	19. Chapter 19

Phoenix told Miles what had happened the next time they spoke on the phone. It was good to keep each other informed of what was going on. Of course, Phoenix's half of the conversation was less about informing than it was about confessing.

Miles just listened as Phoenix told him everything - what Kristoph had said, what Kristoph had done... what _he'd_ done, and how ashamed he was. That was when Miles finally spoke up. "Do you know the difference between a law-abiding citizen and a criminal?"

The question seemed both obvious and completely out of context. "...Huh?"

"Both are human, with the capacity and the occasional urge, whether through selfishness or anger or any number of other reasons, to do the wrong thing," Miles stated. "A criminal knows that what he wants to do is wrong, and he does it anyway, though perhaps he rationalizes it. A good citizen recognizes that what he wants to do is wrong, and does _not_ do it."

Phoenix let out his breath in a tired sigh. "...I'm kind of amazed at that logic coming from _you_... but thanks."

Miles chuckled. "Who do you think allowed me to finally believe in the existence of good, law-abiding citizens?"

It felt like the first honest smile Phoenix had been able to form for years. Too bad Miles wasn't actually there to see it. It didn't last long anyway. "The problem with that logic, though, is... I'm starting to wonder about Kristoph."

"Don't even start," Miles said immediately. Naturally, he would know exactly where Phoenix's thoughts were taking him. "It's always been fairly obvious that the man has some psychological problems; now it's simply _more_ obvious. That doesn't change what he did to you, what he tried to do to Trucy, or what he most likely did to that man who helped him with the cameras."

"But it's like you said," Phoenix pointed out. "A criminal _knows_ that what he wants to do is wrong, and does it. What if-"

"That is why we have allowances for insanity or the mentally challenged," Miles interrupted. "It _still_ doesn't change what he did. And don't forget, Phoenix - he may be mentally blocking whatever trauma you unwittingly brought to the surface, but he's well aware of what he did to you. His commission of forged evidence was clearly pre-meditated, and he manipulated the Misham girl to ensure her silence. Ever since he's been watching you, trying to keep you under his control - and don't forget the incident with Trucy's gun."

"I can't forget that." Phoenix's expression darkened just at the thought of it. "That's the biggest reason I need to keep on going with this. If he didn't know what he was doing, I could forgive the whole evidence thing, and even the drugging and the hidden cameras and so on, but not _that_."

"I'm glad to hear it." Not that the hard tone of Miles's voice suggested any sort of happiness. "I know at heart you believe in people's innate goodness, Phoenix. I can't say it's a quality I disapprove of, because your faith in your clients kept innocents from going to prison for crimes they didn't commit - and your faith in _me_ kept me from making any number of terrible mistakes. But there are some people who will use it to take advantage of you."

"I've noticed."

There was a pause, and a quiet breath, like Miles had nearly laughed. "During some of our conversations over the past few years, after all of this began, I thought you'd lost your fire. You never used to be content to sit and wait, or to compromise."

"Yeah, well, things have changed."

"Things have changed, yes. But to my surprise, _you_ haven't changed so much at all - you've simply learned to control and redirect that fire."

Phoenix thought back to Miles's words many times in the years that followed. They gave him some measure of comfort when he was overwhelmed by how different his life was than he'd expected. Possibly Miles wouldn't have approved of him remembering them when he was with Kristoph, during those times when everything seemed so normal on the surface. The times when Phoenix could almost forget that their relationship was a lie, and wondered in the face of a sunny smile if Kristoph _had_ forgotten. And if so, just what he was doing to the man.

He tried, sometimes, to get Kristoph to talk. Yes, Kristoph had done terrible things, but it wasn't as if people were just _evil_. If he could get to Kristoph's motivations, to whatever had twisted him, maybe he could... _un_twist him somehow.

"You know," Phoenix remarked one evening as they were sitting on Kristoph's sofa together, "you never talk about your childhood."

Kristoph raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I've told you all about how I met Miles and Larry, and a bunch of the stuff in between. All the misery of high school, and I showed you the places where my parents used to live... But I don't know anything about your family, except that you raised your brother after..." Phoenix hesitated. "You've never even actually told me what happened to your parents."

"Ah... You'll forgive me - it's not a terribly pleasant conversational topic." Kristoph didn't seem particularly disturbed, however, as he took another sip of his wine; Phoenix had taken to keeping his favored brand of grape juice around, and drinking little else, just to avoid Kristoph offering him a drink. "It was an accident."

"Hmm." Phoenix nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you, but don't worry about it," Kristoph assured him. "It was a very long time ago, and though I prefer not to relive it, I've made peace with the memory."

Phoenix wondered if he would see the locks and chains - but nothing happened. "I guess something like that kind of trumps all other growing pains, hmm?"

"I suppose it would, yes."

"I mean, myself," Phoenix continued, wondering just how much he was pushing it, "I could point to several things that happened when I was younger that left a mark on me even to this day. Nearly being murdered by my girlfriend is probably the biggest one, but there are things like the class trial, and before that, moving seemed like the end of the world..."

...He was hoping that Kristoph might chime in here, but he didn't. "What about you? Any other big things that left an impression on you?"

Kristoph seemed to consider for a moment. "I can't think of anything, off the top of my head."

Still no psyche-locks. "Seriously?" Phoenix asked again. "Nothing at all?"

Kristoph shook his head and smiled. "Aside from my parents' misfortune, I believe I've led a rather charmed life."

And that was the most Phoenix ever managed to get out of him. Kristoph either brushed right over or was completely unaware of the questions Phoenix asked; there was no admission of having been hurt in the past, no bitterness about his childhood, and no psyche-locks to give Phoenix cues about whether or not he was on the right track, no matter how hard Phoenix tried. Miles thought _he_ was mad for trying. But even he had to admit it was the kind of thing he'd expect from Phoenix. Unfortunately, Phoenix wasn't having any luck, and there was _no way_ he was going to try to draw it out of him by force. One memory of Kristoph huddled into himself and shaking was more than enough to haunt him.

And then there was the part that Phoenix wouldn't tell Miles, the part that he had difficulty admitting even to himself. After seeing Kristoph in that state, so helpless and scared... well, it was much harder to be angry about everything that Phoenix suspected him of, or to be angry with him at all. Even if it wasn't exactly a shocking admission that Phoenix wanted to help Kristoph... he found that on top of that, he didn't want to _hurt_ Kristoph anymore either. Especially when day in and day out, he was faced with that smile and warm, fond greetings, and no psyche-locks to accompany them.

Phoenix had never forgotten that he was running an investigation, however, and the first time he got a good look at the new junior partner at Kristoph's office, he had the feeling that he was on the verge of getting it rolling again.

The boy was _focused_. That was the first impression Phoenix had of the young man sitting at the front desk with his sleeves rolled up, frowning thoughtfully and staring holes in the billing paperwork clenched in both hands. He was staring so hard, he hardly seemed to notice that his boss had returned from lunch, much less that someone was with him. Phoenix had to smile a little - he'd been awfully determined to prove himself during those early days interning with Mia, too. The kid would learn.

He jumped when Kristoph cleared his throat. "Anything I should know about, Justice?"

"Oh - no, Mr. Gavin, sir." The young man set the papers down - then picked them back up and straightened them before setting them down again. "I was just, er, reading the fine print, sir."

"A wise course of action, when it comes to legal matters," Kristoph remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he set a small paper sack on the desk in front of his junior partner. "We brought you lunch."

"Ah... thank you, sir."

Now that the kid wasn't hiding behind paperwork, Phoenix thought there was something a little odd about him, beyond the usual over-eager formality of a new hire. And his hair. Phoenix had no room to talk about other people's hair anyway... No, the kid looked familiar. Something about the eyes, Phoenix thought. Though regardless of whether he could have said anything about the hair, he was sure he would have remembered it. But the eyes...

They darted downward suddenly, and Phoenix's eyes followed as one of the young man's hands reached absently for the opposite wrist, for a thick bracelet he was wearing. Phoenix had seen _that_ before, too - and after a moment, he thought he remembered where. His eyes widened.

The young man's had too, when he raised them again to look questioningly at Kristoph and Phoenix. "Er... I guess you're the deli's delivery guy, huh...? I, uh, guess I have money for a tip, sorry..."

Phoenix would have laughed, if he wasn't so stunned by the realization of why those eyes looked so familiar. Kristoph, seeing none of it, did laugh. "No, this is an old friend of mine, Mr. Wright. Wright, meet my new partner - Apollo Justice. He's only just received his badge."

...Not the last name he was expecting. Despite his amazement and sudden doubts, Phoenix made himself smile and hold out a hand as the young man stood. "Nice to meet you - and hey, congratulations on the badge, I know the bar can be pretty rough. You can call me Phoenix, if you like."

Apollo seemed distracted. "Nice to meet y..." he began, then froze. His hand jerked back from Phoenix's abruptly. "Wait, _Phoenix_? Phoenix _Wright_?"

Phoenix frowned. "...Yes?" What, were they using his disbarrment as a cautionary classroom tale in law school these days?

"Wow, you're still around? I mean, n-n-not that I thought you had _died_ or anything, but..."

The expression of awe on Apollo's face told Phoenix that he'd completely misinterpreted that initial reaction. Apollo was gaping openly. "I... wow, this is such an _honor_, sir," Apollo told him, standing straighter. "You're sort of a legend among defense attorneys. Heh, I guess I should have expected as much," he added, brushing his hand back through his hair sheepishly. "You really _do_ know everyone who's everyone, Mr. Gavin."

Kristoph's smile had turned slightly cold when Phoenix glanced back to him. "Or who _was_ anyone," Phoenix corrected Apollo. "I'm in a rather different line of work these days, you know. Anyway... see you later, maybe." Possibly once he'd managed to get some confirmation that that bracelet on the kid's wrist wasn't mass-produced in China or something. But even then, the fact that he had Trucy's eyes...

All of this was too big to be mere coincidence. _Something_ was about to happen - Phoenix was sure of it. And sure enough, the biggest breakthrough in his case that had come along in seven years arrived at the Borscht Bowl just weeks later.

But then, only a few hours after arrival, that big breakthrough was slumped back in a chair, a trickle of blood running down from beneath the hat Phoenix had replaced on his head. It probably didn't help his case at all that when the police arrived, Phoenix was sitting at the table across from the corpse, laughing helplessly. He couldn't stop himself - he realized now that he'd been far, far too soft. What was he going to tell Trucy? What was _Kristoph_ intending to tell Trucy, if this was how he intended for it to end?

Fortunately, it was obvious to Phoenix what must have happened, and now he had no remorse whatsoever about doing what he was going to have to do. Not after _that_, no matter how many sunny smiles Kristoph threw at him as he assured Phoenix that this would be a difficult case, but surely he could handle it.

Miles came to see him the next day. He knew before he was told, as he was being escorted to the visitation area, that it had to be Miles. It was after hours, but the former prosecutor still had some pull in the department, even after seven years. Seeing him waiting there on the other side of the glass, he gave Miles a smile as he settled down in the chair. "Now _this_ is a nice surprise. How did you get here so fast?"

"I was already in the country, interviewing for a new position that was just created." Miles sat in the chair opposite, regarding him with a sidelong glance that Phoenix recognized as his own unique take on concern. "But that tale can wait. You're... strangely upbeat for someone who's been charged with murder."

He had some idea what Miles was thinking. "Don't worry - I haven't cracked," he assured him. "I didn't do it."

"I didn't think you did." Miles looked grim.

"You know why I'm so cheerful?" Phoenix gestured to the guard, to the security camera, to the iron bars on the window. "I know I'm being recorded, I know I can't leave... but it's not _him_ doing it this time. In fact, he has no control over anything that goes on in here. It's the first time in years I haven't had to worry about him. There's Trucy to worry about, though," he acknowledged. "She spent what was left of last night and most of today here, so I know she's safe for now - and I think he's more concerned with me now... But could you maybe keep an eye on her for me until I'm out? She's really no trouble. Except the occasional magic explosion - silk and stuffed rabbits everywhere."

"I can keep an eye on her... if you think it's safe for me to be seen with her," Miles agreed with a nod, then got back to the point at hand. "Do you _honestly_ think you're going to be let go? They told me who you chose as your defense attorney."

"I've got my reasons."

"Let me take your case instead," Miles urged him. "I still have my badge. Regardless of what you may think of his ability to comprehend his actions, I doubt very much that he'll throw away the opportunity to have you dealt with once and for all. In fact, he might even be the one who _caused_ this."

"He is." Phoenix had figured that out all too easily. "But trust me - you don't want me to switch. You should hear what happened to the _last_ defense attorney who took a case he wanted to defend."

Miles started to say something and then stopped and stared, speechless. "It's all falling into place now," Phoenix told him. "I'm pretty sure I know why he did it. And why I'm in here now. I don't mind a couple days in jail, knowing that afterwards I'm going to be free - _really_ free - for the first time in seven years."

"...This..." Miles looked stunned. "You're sure? You can take him down now?"

"Maybe not as far down as he deserves, but I can at least make sure Trucy and I are safe if I play my cards right. And as you know," Phoenix remarked, "I've been doing pretty well in the 'playing my cards right' department for the last seven years."

And he did. It was something of a gamble, using a kid who'd never defended in a trial before, but Kristoph apparently had no idea what his protege had up his sleeve. Literally, in fact. It was a good thing Zak had disclosed that information _before_ their rematch.

When the verdict was read, Phoenix was too overwhelmed by everything that it meant to care that his new friend with the bracelet and the unbelievably appropriate name celebrated his first victory by punching his client in the face. (It was kind of cute, actually.) He wondered what Trucy would think of him, and vice versa... but Apollo had already had one bomb dropped on his life today - Phoenix would wait and see how things progressed for a little while first. Besides, he had plans for the rest of the evening, once the paperwork was processed and he was released.

Those plans were, in a nutshell, to allow Trucy to walk a few blocks to her show at the Wonder Bar alone for the first time - and then to take Miles back to see his office-turned-apartment for the first time. Particularly his room. And particularly the couch, though quickly they agreed that he was going to have to buy an actual bed if this was _ever_ going to happen again. Phoenix neglected to point out the camera that was still embedded in the ceiling - if Kristoph somehow managed to get his hands on _that_ recording (unlikely, when he was stuck in the detention center, and soon enough would be in prison), he'd actually feel pretty good about it. Miles might not feel quite the same way, though...

It wasn't till later that night, well after Trucy had gotten home and Phoenix was lying on that couch again (wishing he'd bought a bed earlier so that Miles could have stayed the night) that he started thinking about the dark, furious look on Kristoph's face when he'd been on the stand, and then when the officers led him away. It was ridiculous to feel as though _he_ was the one who had betrayed _Kristoph_ under the circumstances, especially when Kristoph had been showing his true colors through much of the trial, belittling him and trying to intimidate both him and Apollo as soon as it became clear that Phoenix knew the truth.

Sure, it was clear now to everyone what Phoenix had known about Kristoph for years. But what they didn't know, Phoenix thought, was that there was almost certainly some sort of reason for his obsession with control. They still weren't seeing the whole picture.

Neither was Phoenix, of course, but he knew there was something more beneath it. He turned over, and reminded himself that the courts dealt with situations like this every day. Kristoph didn't need him as an advocate, even if he would have had him. And even if Phoenix would have offered. Which he wouldn't. He was... _fairly_ sure about that.

He couldn't stop wondering, though, just a little, what might have been different if he'd tried harder to get to what was underneath. If he'd had longer, if he'd found out sooner. Maybe he could have stopped Kristoph before it got so far, and Zak could have delivered his gift to Trucy in person.

Then again, he thought groggily, turning over again and remembering the man's behavior after the poker game - maybe it was just as well he never had the chance to offer. Even that was more comfortable to think about than Kristoph, and finally he managed to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

It wasn't all over yet - Phoenix knew that. He hadn't actually achieved his objective, when it came down to it, because the death of the alleged Mr. Smith had preempted his plans. So his name hadn't been cleared. So what? After living seven years without his badge, he'd gotten used to the idea of being a pianist and poker player, and just 'Trucy's dad'. Life on a less meaningful stage wasn't so terrible.

He'd also gotten used to living life in fear, considering every word he spoke, hardly letting Trucy out of his sight. Not to mention the strain on his relationship with Miles - who had recently been considering moving back to the States to take a new position, irregardless of Phoenix's changing situation. After seven years in hiding, hardly seeing each other, they both knew they couldn't just fall back together so easily, but it seemed like a good opportunity to give it another try.

In fact, Miles's new position gave Phoenix another chance at his old line of work, as well - after so long had passed, the association seemed to have gotten over their indignation, and were open to the suggestion, given Phoenix's track record before the Zak Gramarye incident. And then, although Phoenix wouldn't have liked to think of anyone's murder as 'convenient', Drew Misham's sudden death put all the loose ends together, ready to be tied up in one giant knot.

He might have been going a little too far with the metaphors, he mused. Things weren't so tidy as all that - less like a tied shoelace and more like a tangled kite string. His life, and the lives of everyone else involved, had been changed drastically. He preferred to keep the lights on when he and Miles were in bed, he had to stop himself from calling Trucy's cell phone constantly, there were days he had to just pour a bottle of slightly old grape juice down the drain because it smelled too much like red wine... But he was going to keep untangling those loose ends, he resolved - he was going to _make macrame_ out of them before he was done.

...Yeah, he was definitely taking the metaphor too far.

The one loose end that attracted the most attention, though, seemed to go on forever. Kristoph had already been tried and convicted for the murder of Shadi Smith, and received a sentence of forty years - a bit less than might have been expected, but it was widely agreed upon at the time of his sentencing that Kristoph was mentally unsound. It had been a random act of violence, the act of an unstable mind, and rehabilitation was a possibility. Even knowing that it wasn't entirely random, Phoenix held out some hope that maybe they were right.

That hope vanished when Kristoph was tried for the murder of Drew Misham, and the attempted murder of Vera. Other incidents came to light of possible forged evidence in high-profile cases, and people who had died or disappeared mysteriously at approximately the same time, or who were otherwise convinced not to talk. Generally the deaths were due to unusual poisons, sometimes in clusters. Rick Taylor's death by atroquinine poisoning was brought up - at roughly the same point in time that the stamp and the nail polish had been given to the Mishams. _Everyone_ could see the pattern that was emerging, not just the jurors. So much for Phoenix's concerns that maybe he could have done something to save Kristoph - things had been worse than he knew, for longer than he'd guessed. He was sickened to think that some of those nights Kristoph had called him and told him he'd be a bit late at the office, something had come up that he had to take care of... _this_ was what he'd been taking care of.

When the sentence was declared, Kristoph stood unfazed at the bench, calmly looking over the gallery just in time to see Phoenix wordlessly excuse himself, and Miles hesitantly stand to go after him.

Phoenix couldn't have offered to be Kristoph's defense even if he'd wanted to, which he hadn't - he wouldn't have been able to take the bar fast enough, not to mention getting the results and the badge before the trial. He had no say whatsoever, which was probably a good thing, because he knew the courts had weighed all the evidence and come to the logical conclusion - even if he wished they hadn't.

Months passed. Life was becoming a little more normal around the Wright Anything Agency, if more hectic than most sane people would have preferred - Apollo had moved in, Ema stopped by from time to time, Klavier was now playing solo shows and kept inviting them, much to Trucy's delight and Apollo's exasperation. Phoenix had an actual bed - he kind of had to, since there weren't enough couches to go around with Apollo staying there. He still wore that hat of his most of the time - he really did feel naked without it - but everyone knew now to tell him to cut it out when he casually scratched his head in a certain place. Miles was still trying to convince Trucy that he was not simply going to join _their_ bizarre excuse for a law firm, but start his own. If Phoenix ever got around to taking the bar again, that is...

Phoenix wasn't sure. He trusted the revamped courtroom procedures more than he'd trusted the old rules, all blacks and whites and no grey areas - the jurist system he and Miles had helped to put in place _did_ make for more logical trials, and brought criminals to justice in a more reliable manner. On the other hand, there were still things he didn't care for about the trial process.

And to be honest, about justice. He wasn't comfortable with justice at all lately - except of course for Apollo, whose constant bewilderment at the more unusual aspects of his new life was an entertaining diversion on a regular basis.

It had been a long time when Phoenix decided he really did need to pay Kristoph one last visit.

The guard showed him to the cell where Kristoph sat alone in his comfortable chair, reading. Looking up to see Phoenix, Kristoph set his book aside, finding a scrap of paper to slip in between the pages. Phoenix wondered why he bothered - in less than twenty-four hours, no one was going to be there to care about a folded page corner or a creased spine. "Well..." Kristoph murmured, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "I expected that I might have a visitor or two tonight, but I didn't expect _you_. I can't say that I blame you for wanting to release your bitterness while you have the chance - but somehow, it just didn't seem like you."

It isn't. Phoenix almost said it, before he caught himself and kept his mouth closed, his lips a tight, straight line. Instead, he asked, "Did Klavier stop by yet?"

"My brother made a brief appearance, yes," Kristoph replied, folding his hands in his lap. "I expect he'll be back before the night is through."

So either Klavier wasn't dealing well with this, or Kristoph was playing mind games to make sure that he wouldn't. Phoenix made a note to give him a call later and see how he was doing - or better yet, have Apollo call him instead.

"So go ahead," Kristoph offered with a shrug. "It would appear that you have enough reason to be angry with me. If you've come to taunt me with my imminent demise, then you might as well do so."

He seemed too calm for a man who knew his last hours were ticking past. Only on the surface, however - when Phoenix looked closer, he saw a tightness in Kristoph's jaw, the subtle motion of his eyes. This time, he said it. "That's not why I came. It's not the kind of thing I do."

"Even after all I've done to you."

"Because I don't do it to anyone," Phoenix replied. "No matter how much they may deserve it."

Kristoph chuckled darkly. "What I did to you, Phoenix, I did knowingly. I feel no remorse, but for allowing myself to be caught."

"Yeah, I know."

Kristoph looked somewhat puzzled at Phoenix's easy answer. "...I studied you, you realize. I know about Dahlia."

The name still made shivers run up his spine... but something else was mixed with it, as had always been the case. "What does Dahlia have to do with anything?"

"I assure you," Kristoph stated, "that I have no twin - no secret kind-hearted doppelganger to set your mind at ease about the person you loved. There is only one of me, Phoenix, and he was playing you like a puppet all along. Kristoph Gavin, the man you believed you loved, was and is a sociopathic, manipulative murderer."

The thought of Dahlia, and of Iris getting him off the hook for his hopeless earnest love, was the final variable that resolved Phoenix's uncertainty. "I know that too," he said with a nod.

"There will be no revelation, no explanation," Kristoph insisted. "I will not apologize, for I am not sorry, and I will make no excuses, because I have none."

"I figured."

"Then why," Kristoph inquired, "have you come?"

"Because I loved you once," Phoenix said simply. "And it's like I told you years ago - I never learned how to fall out of love."

Kristoph made a quiet scoffing noice, turning his head away. "And they say _I'm_ mad."

"That's exactly why it's still possible."

"What are you talking about?" Kristoph growled, narrowing his eyes. "I _knew_ what I was doing to you, Phoenix."

"Yeah... I talked to the doctors who evaluated you," Phoenix told him, standing his ground, hands still in his pockets. "They said you understand things like compassion, empathy, and love... but only as general concepts. Kind of like an actor playing a death scene - he doesn't have any experience with actually dying, but he knows what happens when someone gets shot through the heart, and can pretend. Even though he doesn't feel any pain at all."

"Precisely."

"You were pretty convincing." Phoenix shrugged. "You fooled me for awhile."

"When did you figure it out?"

"A long time ago. Gumshoe showed me the pictures you sent to him to forward to Miles," Phoenix explained, and glanced over to look Kristoph in the eye. "That was the stupidest mistake you ever made, Kristoph. If you hadn't drugged me that night, you still would have gotten your incriminating pictures, and I would have assumed they were taken by the same person who rigged your brother's piano with a camera. I never would have suspected you. Or at least, it would have taken me a lot longer."

"So you _have_ come to taunt me," Kristoph muttered, his expression sour. "I suppose you're happy with the way things turned out. Soon I will be gone, and the world will be a safer place."

"No, actually I'm not happy about this at all," Phoenix admitted. "The sentence may be a just one, but... I would have preferred mercy."

"Is that so...?" Kristoph's growl was harsh. "Feeling a bit guilty?"

Phoenix shook his head. "I know I did what was right. But as I said, I have a hard time letting go."

"_Letting go_, Wright?!" Kristoph snarled. "You _betrayed_ me!"

Phoenix shook his head. "I defended myself. Defending yourself isn't betrayal, Kristoph. Even if the person you're defending yourself against is someone you care about." Maybe that was something Kristoph had never figured out too, given Phoenix's suspicions. Which brought him to his main objective in coming. "Kristoph... what happened to you, that you wound up unable to feel for other people?"

Kristoph's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Someone hurt you, didn't they? A long time ago."

Kristoph looked wary. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Phoenix idly fingered the stone in his pocket. He'd almost wondered if he should bring it, or leave it behind and give Kristoph the dignity of whatever facade he chose to put up during his last hours, but he'd changed his mind. "You feel you need to have power over other people, because someone once was able to have power over you."

"Ridiculous," Kristoph stated. "No one has _ever_ been able to take control from me. I have power over others because it is simple. With money, with kindness, with sexual gratification... as you have been made aware," he added with an arrogant smirk. "People are weak, and easy to control. If I can do so, why wouldn't I?"

No psyche-locks. Phoenix sighed. He would probably never know what happened to Kristoph. No, not _probably_ \- in less than twenty-four hours, no one would be left who _could_ say with certainty if anything had ever happened at all.

There was just one more question he wanted an answer to before he could leave, and he asked it now. "Kristoph, these last seven years... Did I make you happy?"

"...Happy?" Kristoph stared at him in disbelief. "_Happy_, Phoenix? I told you - I was using you all along."

Phoenix just nodded again. "But did I make you happy?"

Kristoph burst out laughing incredulously. "You _fool_, Wright - do you even know what you're asking?"

"Yes."

"Well then," Kristoph stated, still smirking. "In a certain sense, one might say that you did. You were so obedient, so _responsive_. I enjoyed having a hold on you, and it pleased me that you offered me your body and your heart, year after year after year."

"So I _did_ make you happy?"

"In a word? Yes."

Again, no psyche-locks - which wasn't a surprise when he was being so brutal about what exactly it was that made him happy. Phoenix smiled. "I'm glad."

Kristoph's smirk faltered a little. "Why would you..."

"I believe that you never loved me," Phoenix said, taking a step closer to his chair. "They said you don't know how to love anyone. But if someone made you happy, if you enjoyed having them with you... that's about the closest to being in love that you could get. And I'm glad I could give you that much."

The smirk was gone entirely, replaced by an uncertain expression, as Phoenix knelt beside Kristoph's chair. "...I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I know you don't." And he never would, but Phoenix leaned in and kissed Kristoph anyway - slow and gentle and sweet, just as Kristoph had kissed him the first time.

Kristoph just stared at him when he drew back. Then, abruptly, he laughed, covering his face. "Even _now_... Even now, you're _still_ under my power. This is fantastic..."

Phoenix smiled and shook his head, getting to his feet again. He couldn't be angry anymore. "I was afraid of you, mostly because I thought you might hurt Trucy... but the only power you have over me now, Kristoph, is the power I gave you a long time ago. And that's the funny thing about love - it's not like any other power in the world, because no one can _take_ it from anyone else. It has to be given - and that means that the person who gives it away is the one who holds the power."

"Sentimental nonsense." Kristoph snorted his derision. "Perhaps you should give up the piano and turn to writing greeting cards."

"Nah..." It didn't matter that Kristoph didn't understand - Phoenix had done what he'd come to do, and he turned to go. "I actually was thinking I might start taking piano lessons. ...I'll be there tomorrow," he added, looking back for a moment.

"To finally do the laughing you wouldn't do to my face?" Kristoph muttered, still laughing helplessly. "Will you perhaps be recording the whole thing with that silly hat of yours?"

Actually, Phoenix suspected it was going to make him sick to his stomach, and he'd probably break down as soon as he was alone, but he knew himself well enough to know it would be worse if he didn't go. "Just to be there for you," he stated. "Even if you can't see me, or understand why, I'll be there. ...Goodbye, Kristoph."

Kristoph didn't reply, except to continue laughing, and Phoenix nodded to the guard at the door.

Miles was waiting with crossed arms and a stoic expression just outside the double-doors that led into the rest of the wing, but Phoenix hesitated there, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Over. This was over. Maybe he couldn't really believe it yet - which was why he had to be present tomorrow at the execution, and he probably wouldn't believe it then either. For all that people had told him all his life that he was gullible, that he'd believe anything, there were some things he'd just never been able to make himself believe.

When he opened his eyes again, Miles was still standing there, in exactly the same place. Just waiting for him. "Did you get anything out of him?"

Phoenix shook his head. "I don't think he remembers himself. ...I really wanted to do at least that much for him," he sighed. "And in the name of 'justice for all', for that matter - I wanted to make sure that person couldn't hurt anyone else either."

"You're expecting too much of yourself," Miles observed. "None of this is your responsibility, and you've already given him more than he deserves."

Probably true, but Phoenix shrugged, and gestured vaguely in the direction of the entrance. "I'd been thinking, actually," he said as they walked, "about something you told me a while back..."

"Hmm?"

"You said that criminals know what they want to do is wrong, but they do it anyway. And that a good citizen sometimes wants to do the wrong thing, but doesn't do it. But you know, it occurred to me - sometimes they have the wrong reason for doing the right thing. Like the only thing that stops them is the thought that they'll be caught, or because they want to look good in front of someone else..."

"I don't see how that could apply to your situation," Miles remarked, "but it doesn't matter - they're still doing the right thing, regardless of the questionable reason."

"That's what I'd been thinking about," Phoenix explained. "Kristoph never loved me, and he did a lot of terrible things to me, but he did some good things for me too. I mean, he helped me out financially, he comforted me when you and I broke up, he paid to remodel my office..."

"After causing you to lose your job, tricking us into breaking up, and formulating a plan to set hidden cameras in your walls."

"Heh, yeah, but still. When he was doing good things for me, even for terrible reasons, he was still doing those good things... right? And he did the good things he did very well."

Miles shook his head, more in fond exasperation than disagreement. "Wright, you're probably the only person in the world who could take that angle on seven years of torment and manipulation. ...You really haven't changed one bit."

"No... I've definitely changed," Phoenix said, after considering. "I'm stronger than I was. That's something he did for me without even knowing he was doing it."

Miles glanced over at him, then glanced downward. "Will you take your hands out of your pockets for a change," he complained, "so that I might hold one?"

Phoenix grinned sheepishly. That was something he hadn't even realized he was doing until Miles pointed it out. Funny - nowadays _he_ was the one who still felt odd and exposed holding hands in public, and Miles was the one who always had to remind him that it was all right.

Come to think of it, Miles had changed too, and Phoenix thought for the better.

* * *

Well over a year later, Phoenix was sorting through the videos that had accumulated on Mia's computer during the time he'd been gathering his evidence; Miles had informed him, quite firmly, that Edgeworth and Wright (he'd finally given in under the authority of alphabetization, though Phoenix wondered how he'd justify that when they brought Apollo on board) was going to make use only of computers that ran operating systems less than ten years old. He'd already deleted every video bearing Kristoph's name without looking - he _definitely_ didn't need those for evidence anymore, and he saw the face enough in the dreams that still disturbed his sleep from time to time. Then he was making himself feel better by looking over the ones named after Trucy, rediscovering all the old memories of bright spots in the midst of the darkness, when he found one without any further designation besides her name and a date.

It was one of his earliest videos, for she was still very little in it, in the middle of telling her daddy to watch as she ran off towards the jungle gym at the playground near Kristoph's house, saying she was going to do a trick. The picture bobbed a little as he nodded - then jerked suddenly when Phoenix, who had been expecting her to hang upside down by her knees or something, started in alarm at the shout of 'Presto!' and a sudden gigantic cloud of smoke engulfing the bars, the screams from the children that had been playing on them already.

_"You see, Daddy?"_ she said proudly, striking a pose as the smoke began to clear. _"I made all the other kids disappear!"_

_"..."_ The Phoenix in the video was speechless, staring at the empty play equipment and the kids who had fled from it, now standing around and gaping, some of them crying.

Suddenly there was a cough, and the camera turned to its source, sitting at his side, just in time to catch Kristoph laughing. Not the mocking way he'd laughed when Phoenix said goodbye, or the hysterical laughter he'd displayed on the witness stand - this was a laugh of honest amusement. _"Questionable technique,"_ he remarked, turning to Phoenix with a broad smile, _"but you must admit, she got the desired result."_ And with that, he began to laugh again.

Phoenix watched until the end, until the picture froze on Kristoph's smile, and then watched a little longer. That one, he decided, he would keep.


End file.
